Hope Dangles on a String
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: This isn't how it's supposed to be. I've failed. I can't stop touching him and he won't stop touching me. I'm terrified and I can't breathe but he's kissing me and I will go to hell before I ever deny him anything. I don't know who I am anymore. AU, OOC.
1. Wandering

**Hope Dangles On A String**

Chapter 1.

…..

_'Drowning in anger from all these lies_

_I can't pretend everything is all right. Please don't let me fall forever. Can you tell me it's over now?' -Red_

…

And that's it.

That's all.

It's over.

I light a cigarette. Nicotine will save me from the onslaught of nerves.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't help.

It's eating me up inside.

My stomach heaves, but there's nothing.

There's always nothing.

"You're the same," she stated, her dark eyes as large and as shiny as they have always been. I can't help thinking how amazing she looks tonight. Her short black hair just beginning to grow, brushing her shoulders. Shredded white Death Of Chappy Bunny tank, the one I bought for her when we first got together, when I'd promised her I'd take her to see them in concert. We'd driven for hours, jamming to ZANPAKUTO's newest album and debating whether the new front man of AIZEN'S ARMY was better then the one that had died from a covered-up overdose. I remembered how sexy she had been, shit-faced drunk at the concert, the amazing sex in the back of my old man's piece of shit station wagon afterwards.

She's still looking at me, looking powerful in that tight miniskirt. I can't help thinking about how those short but slender legs would wrap around me as I would pound her into the mattress, how I'd grunt and she'd cry and we'd sweat and when it was all over we'd feel closer than ever.

I take another drag of my cigarette as she continues.

"You don't even care. That's why this shit has to stop, Ichigo."

Inhale, exhale.

"You have nothing to worry about," she says, tiny pale arms crossed over her chest, hiding her small breasts, "Not that you would. You're selfish."

"I'm selfish," I repeat numbly, flicking my spent cigarette onto the paved driveway in front of her parent's monster house, "That's one way of looking at it, Rukia."

"Orihime said she'd come with me to the clinic," Rukia says, her arms still crossed, rubbing absently at her elbows. I wonder if she's cold, "Now you know. So just leave."

Leave.

"Fuck you, Rukia Kuchiki," I say. I don't yell it. I don't scream it. I don't even think I really mean it. I just don't know what else to say.

I feel betrayed, and lost, and alone, and it's making me squirm.

I want to rip out of my skin.

I want to hunt the fucker down and grind his face into the pavement, until his bones and blood are ground to dust as fine as chalk.

I want to strangle Rukia and break her, then hold her and make love to her. Then break her again. And again and again until all of this insanity disappears forever.

"You can't," I say brokenly, putting my hands in my pockets. I don't trust them. I don't trust myself not to do something stupid and pointless, so I put my hands away, even though I can feel them shaking.

"You're not ready to be a daddy," she says quietly, and for a moment I believe the hurt in her voice, "and I won't be guilty for this, Ichigo. You will NOT make me the bad guy!"

"You slept with him!" I burst, surprised at the strength of my voice, "You swore you fuckin' loved me and now you've got his abortion inside you!"

For a moment I regret my words. Her face pales, agony is replaced by anger.

"We weren't _together_!" Rukia screams back, fire in her eyes, "We were separated for _months_, so don't you dare preach to me, Kurosaki Ichigo! Nel told me herself that you two fucked in the bathrooms at _VIZORED'S_ when you were both blitzed out of your mind, that you and Grimmjow tag-teamed Cirucci not even two nights later at a party when she was so drunk she might as well have been unconscious. You make me sick! You're sick and I want you off of my property right now!"

"Shit happens."

"Fuck you! Get out of here and don't come back!" Rukia bellows as I turn away from her to begin the long trek home.

I don't look back. I don't have to.

There's nothing back there for me anymore.

…..

I don't go home. I can't.

I head to Grimmjow's instead.

I mount the side staircase of the apartment building, bypassing crude messages in kanji and English in spray paint.

I take a right down the hallway on the third floor, stopping in front of a partially-open door that has Silverstein's 'Your Sword Versus My Dagger' blaring from sick speakers Grimmjow boosted from somebody we used to know in high school.

_'In all these city streets the people look the same and I can see your face and I can hear your name, I wasn't asking for the world…!'_

I push the door open and step inside, slamming the door closed behind me.

Several faces look over at me, some familiar, some not.

I scan the room and see no obnoxiously bright blue hair and wonder where my friend since secondary is if half a dozen people are chilling, drinking, and doing drugs in his living space.

"What up, mothafucka?" Renji says from his place in a whicker chair that's pulled up to a glass coffee table covered in playing cards and blow. He's currently using one of his many credit cards to straighten a rail that he created on top of a scratched up hardcover yearbook that boasts our senior year at Karakura High. A white and black bandana is tied around his head, his long crimson hair pulled back into a messy tail. He'd decided to grow it out again after a chick had told him last summer that all lead singers of good bands had long hair. Renji was an idiot who would believe anything, although I had to agree that his band was fucking solid, if not the best in the city at the moment.

I watched him snort a rail with a cut straw, sniff, and look up at me, "Grimm made a beer run. Take a seat, _mi amigo_."

I pulled up a metal folding chair that had been in my way up to Renji's space, nodding to the busty blonde sitting to Renji's right, her top so small and tight I could imagine her tits falling out at the smallest sigh or sneeze.

"We're headin' out to_ VIZORED'S_ later," Renji said with a maniacal grin at the same time I heard Keigo yell something from the direction of the bathroom, "You didn't forget, did you?"

I shake my head side to side even though I'm lying. I completely forgot about Renji's band's gig tonight. Which was understandable, considering I had just learned that my on-and-off again girlfriend of nearly five years was planning to have another man's abortion the following day. Life was funny that way.

"We're going to _slay_ tonight, bruh," he continued, snorting another monster rail I hadn't noticed before, "There's gonna be, like, five hundred people and plenty of bangin' bitches for everyone. I order you ta' cut loose tonight, man."

"I don't know."

"What the fuck?" Renji says exasperatedly, "Fuck, Ichi, it's over. You guys, like, broke up over a month ago, didn't you? Didn't you work all this shit out for the final fuckin' time? She's a rich-as-shit stuck-up bitch with a freaky prick of a brother who, to me, looks like a fuckin' chick."

"Shut up, Renji." The only reason I don't punch him in the face is because although he's brash and can be a huge idiot, he's loyal and has had my back since I was old enough to sing my ABC's. I'd done more stupid shit with the fucker than I cared to remember, several instances in which had resulted in police escorts, handcuffs, and threats to be locked up in county.

"What? He does," Renji says petulantly, too wired to comprehend I wasn't referring to Rukia's one and only brother, the heir to the Kuchiki fortune, Kuchiki Byakuya.

Who, for the record, had sucked me off last summer when he'd been too drunk to know any better. I'd been too drunk to care or really comprehend what was going on, only realizing that it wasn't Rukia when I realized how long the silk black hair was that my fingers were threaded in. Rukia had been passed out in the living room as he milked me dry, my hands in his long black hair, tugging harshly.

"You're right. Kinda," I say.

I let Renji ramble on about what the band was thinking about performing that night as Chad and Keigo take a seat on the black leather couch across from us, beers in their hands as Keigo goes on and on about some chick he's been trying to bang for the past four months. I see Ikkaku's bald head gleaming as he fidgets with the stereo system and suddenly the music is replaced with some underground track I've never heard before and the bass is powerful and I'm leaning back and starting to drift when the door to the apartment bursts open and Grimmjow walks in like a fucking rock star in pimping black Chucks, dark Levi's and a white V-neck with blood splatters that declares 'I Killed Your Mommy' in bold black Gothic lettering all down the front. His blue hair is untamed, flopping over his forehead, aviator sunglasses hiding his steel blue eyes, an unlit joint tucked behind his ear.

It takes me a second to notice Gin has come in behind him as quietly as the animal he resembles, his snake eyes slit open to reveal pale blue orbs, his silver-tinted hair swept out of his face, his ensemble uniquely Gin. Only Gin could wear skintight white jeans and a black V-neck with a zombie pony on it and not catch shit for it.

He smirked at me as he carried plastic bags over to the kitchen area, throwing them down before plopping down on the abandoned loveseat, eyeballing the blonde girl who's name I didn't know with the big tits and who was apparently mute.

"Where the fuck's Starrk?" Grimmjow said, dumping the case of beer by my feet, "Fucker better not be sleeping in my bed again."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I saw him go in there," Renji says, his brows drawn together like he was thinking really hard.

"Bitch," Grimmjow hisses, snatching off his sunglasses and throwing them on the glass table before disappearing to wake up the sleepy bastard that was one of his oldest friends.

Some time later, after Starrk had been roused and he was sitting on the floor sharing Grimmjow's joint and most of the beer and several of the bottles had been drank, Renji announced that it was time to hit the club, that CRIMSON FAITH, his band, had been blowing up his phone for the past twenty minutes and they were waiting on him to set up.

"Let's bounce," Renji says again, dipping his fingers in a glass of lukewarm water and rubbing his nostrils before standing up and grabbing the blonde's hand who followed silently behind him. Chad and Keigo head out after, Keigo already smashed and Chad looking like an annoyed baby sitter, Ikkaku's headphones on and the world forgotten as he followed the others out closing the apartment door behind him. Gin got off of the couch, stretching like a lazy cat before sliding next to Starrk on the floor and planting a kiss on his cheek, "Ready 'ta bounce, baby?"

"Mm," Starrk grunts, passing the remainder of the blunt over to Grimmjow before turning to his boyfriend and kissing him on the lips. I look away.

After a couple of minutes, Starrk says, "You boys comin'?"

"In a minute," Grimmjow says, finished with the blunt and getting up off the floor and heading down the hallway towards his bathroom, "Gotta piss first."

I pull forty in American out of my pocket, what's left of my stash from my week in California with my old man at a medical convention in San Diego, "You got two grams?"

"Someone's ready to party," Starrk says with a smile as he pulls two plastic baggies out of his jean pocket. We've known each other for years and we're pretty tight so he's always given me a good discount on the snow. We swap, and by the time I've opened a baggie and pulled out my keys and done three or four bumps of blow, Grimmjow swags back in, looking at me with a devilish smirk.

"What?" I snap, already feeling like my brain is full of lightning.

"Nothin'," he says snarkily, jumping to the couch and pulling a razor blade from the coffee table and without another word begins to divvy up his own stash, making eight monster lines, "Now that you're over that Rukia bitch."

"Watch it," I say.

"Fuck you," he says back with that sexy as hell slight German accent. I fucking love it, when his voice goes all deep and dark and commanding.

But I'll never admit that. I still remember the first day he came to my middle school, our first day of secondary. I'll never forget it because the other kids called him gaijin, outsider, and he beat three of our male classmates so bad that two of them went to the hospital, the third was lucky with only a couple of broken fingers. His Japanese had still been rough at the time, not to mention his exotic looks were either feared or envied.

He had easily been the most destructive student in the school. Of course I had to meet him.

"_What the fuck you staring at_?" he'd growled in broken Japanese, his snarl intimidating. Twelve years old and he struck more fear into me than any adult I had ever come across.

"_Your hair_," I had said back with a smirk. I'd been so damn cocky back then, thinking I was hot shit because I'd been in a dojo for over five years, "_What are you? A smurf?_"

He'd drawn his eyebrows together and practically growled at me. Thinking back on it, I'm pretty sure he'd been frustrated that he didn't understand what I was saying to him more than what I had actually said, but he must have understood 'blue' because in the next second he was slamming his body into me, pushing me to the ground, attacking me like a wild animal.

I'd fucking loved it. I'd given as much as I got, both of us walking around the next day with bruises on our necks and faces and cuts on our knuckles. We continued to do this. Again and again, and one more time before he had learned how to insult my ridiculously orange hair, calling me '_Safety Cone Strawberry'_ which had resulted in us both going to the infirmary, me with two broken knuckles and the school nurse wailing that Grimmjow had to be taken to an emergency room because I had managed to break a blood vessel in Grimmjow's eye with my punch.

And the next time somebody dared to make fun of me, Grimmjow showed them what was up, claiming he was the only one allowed to make fun of my pansy ass. One day after school I'd seen him hanging out with a bunch of older kids, a cigarette hanging out between his lips as he spoke rapidly in a language I didn't understand to this kid with wavy brown hair and tired grey eyes. Grimmjow had looked comfortable, untouchable.

Renji had gotten into some tussles with him, but eventually he had to give his respect to the blue-haired delinquent. We'd become a rag-tag family of sorts, watching each other's backs. How strange that family had been: a little bastard with crimson hair, a motherless misunderstood orange-headed only son, and a blue-haired mixed blood.

Renji and I had managed to get into a lot of trouble together in our day, but when it came down to trust, I had to pass the award to Grimmjow. He'd taken a fall for me more times than I can count while still acting like the cocky loaded gun he was.

We knew each other's shit. We knew each other's pasts. We spoke our minds and took nothing back, and when it came down to fists and blood, it just meant we fucking cared too much to feel more. We were inseparable.

And I can't fuck that up, even if I do want him more than I've ever wanted anybody.

Rukia was a distraction. A needed one, but still, just a distraction, something to keep me thinking straight. Literally. And now that she was gone, now that she had fucked me over for the last time, I had nothing to distract me.

I was brought back to the present by Grimmjow snorting two of the rails, slamming one right after the other. He rubs his nose, looks at me with those impossible blue eyes and smiles and I think _God, what are you doing to me?_

He passes me a cut straw.

I lower my head.

I do a line. And another.

I throw my head back.

Breathe.

_I'm awake._

….

The show is killer. The raddest thing I've ever seen, Renji dominating the small stage, everything so heavy and hard and my body is on overdrive and over-sensitized and I'm sweating and drinking and higher than a kite and I'm not thinking about Rukia or the guy that's fucked me over or the baby in her belly that's going to die tomorrow.

Renji's clutching the mic stand, leaning into the crowd that's gyrating and screaming and feeling and sweating. They're halfway through a cover of this sick song by Disciple when I feel someone tugging on my arm and it takes me a full minute to realize who it is and my body stiffens and I feel trapped.

"Hey you," Nel says above the music, pressing herself against me. I want to throw up but don't.

I breathe heavily, the music still destroying as I pry her fingers off of me.

"Don't be like that," she pouts, putting her hands on her ridiculous hips. Everything about this girl is ridiculous, from her long sea green hair to her heart-shaped angel face to her impossible body that would make my dick hard just at the thought of touching her again.

But I'd done a lot of coke and my dick wasn't up for the challenge at the moment, neither was my fucked brain, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Just saying hi," she says with that stupid lisp I hate so much. Her legs are long and covered in fishnet stockings, her white t-shirt cut low to reveal breasts that I want to touch so bad but don't because this girl will destroy me if she gets her claws into me again. She knows it's over between Rukia and me, obviously. She's the one that helped construct the crumbling of the dynasty.

But I can't blame Nel for my problems. Rukia and I were fucked from the beginning, and there's no one to blame but myself.

This thought depresses me.

I feel her against me again, her fingers sliding on my thighs as she presses against me and begins to move to the music and for a second I'm feeling really good before I remember and I push her away, "No."

"What-the-fuck-ever," she says, grabbing my chin in a strong hand before patting the side of my face with the other, "Let me know when you're done moping like a lovesick middle schooler. Christ."

And then she's disappearing into the crowd, hoping I'll go after her.

I don't.

I head to the bar instead, and I've barely had time to order a double whiskey sour before I feel hands on me again. I turn to my right, surprised to see her and then I'm grinning like a retard as I pull her into my arms and kiss her on the cheek.

"Hey you," she squeals, kissing me on both of my cheeks before letting go of my face, "How the fuck are you?"

"God I missed you," I breathe, staring into her large brown eyes. Inoue and I went back, way back, and now looking at her I can't believe the bombshell she turned into. She let her hair grow long again, although now it's streaked with this crazy shade of purple that's not quite right but expected of somebody as different and unique as Inoue. She'd gotten taller, although looking down I notice she's wearing these kick-ass baby blue pumps that give her at least five inches, skinny jeans, and a jade green top that show off her bodacious cleavage and I can't believe I haven't seen her in over a year since she moved off to Tokyo to attend a prestigious culinary school.

Her tiny nose stud glimmers as the lights change and she smiles at me again and I want to unload everything that's been happening to me but I realize where we are and it's not private and I feel closed in again and don't say anything.

"You look amazing," I finally say, twirling her around once and she hugs me again.

"Me? Look at you, Kurosaki Ichigo. You're the hottest thing in this place!" she screams as the music changes to ear-shattering proportions, "You finally took my advice and let your hair grow out! And isn't that the shirt I gave you when we graduated?"

I look down: I hadn't even thought about it. I'm wearing black Lucky jeans and a white t-shirt that says _DON'T RAIN ON MY PARADE_ and there's a picture of a fluffy cloud smoking a joint.

I laugh and am flooded with memories and then we're both laughing and then I feel a punch between my shoulder blades and the air leaves my lungs and I spin around to defend myself when I'm met with another familiar face and I'm throwing my arms around Inoue's longtime girlfriend.

"Fucker, stop flirting with my girlfriend!" she growls playfully, ruffling my hair even though I'm a good foot taller than her. She looks up at me with those dark defiant eyes and I'm smiling like a maniac because this girl is small and petite like Rukia but as badass as they come. I remember when I met her in high school how she took no shit from anybody, how anybody that called her dike got their teeth knocked out, even Grimmjow was slightly afraid of her and I'd instantly respected her for it.

"She doesn't like dick," I remind her and they both laugh and we talk and talk and after four more rounds of drinks I spot Grimmjow disappearing into the girl's bathroom with this dark-haired slender chick and I slam my empty glass down and feel ridiculous.

"What's wrong?" Inoue asks in concern. Renji's voice has been missing for a while now and I realize the stage has been cleared and generic bullshit is now playing and I laugh as I wipe my face with both hands.

"I'm sitting here talking to smoking-hot lesbians instead of fucking with Nel," I laugh out, which makes Tatsuki grin and Inoue blush even though she's laughing with me.

"How far you have fallen," Tatsuki says, grabbing Inoue's hand, "We gotta bounce. Inoue's brother is waiting up on us. We'll be in town for a few more days, hit us up, alright?"

"Fuck yeah," I breathe, hugging them both one more time before fighting my way to the bathroom. I don't know what's possessing me but I push open the girl's bathroom door and step inside, realizing belatedly that I'm holding a PBR and I don't even know who's it is or why I'm holding it.

And then I register that there are two stalls and I can hear these nasty sounds coming from one of them and grunting and I feel my face getting hot and then I hear Grimmjow cuss and the other moan and then it all crashes into me that it's a dude.

The door pushes open behind me but before the girl can get inside I slam my hand against it and bar it with my body. I hear her yelling at me and pounding on the door but I don't budge and I don't know why I'm here or why I'm doing it but for some reason I have this morbid fascination with masochism or I'm a pervert and I'm still high and really drunk and my words slur as I tell the bitch to fuck off and that I'll be done in a minute.

The noises coming from the stall don't stop until I hear Grimmjow cuss repeatedly as he comes and a hand slaps the wall of the stall and then I hear jeans sliding and belts buckling and the stall door opens and the black-haired slender person I had mistaken for a chick is actually a guy with green tear tracks tattooed down his face and a black _ESPADA_ t-shirt. He looks at me with uninterested green eyes and I try not to think about the sounds he was making and instead say, "Fuckin' great shirt, bro."

He nods his head, his face looking dead as I move aside and he leaves through the door I had been blocking and Grimmjow's leaning against the graffiti-covered wall near the sink. I watch him light a cigarette and suddenly the bathroom smells like sex and I'm feeling horny and ashamed and weird.

"I hate this place," Grimmjow says, blowing smoke out of his nostrils before bumping my shoulder as he passes me. The contact is innocent but my skin feels otherwise and I'm almost swaying on my feet and he must notice how loaded I am because he says "come home with me" and I follow him like nothing has ever been wrong with me.

…

An hour later I'm lying in the middle of Grimmjow's giant bed listening to a mix cd as Grimmjow finishes a phone call from the tiny balcony connected to his bedroom. He has the sliding glass door open and I can see the light from his cigarette as he talks and leans against the railing and I suddenly think _I want you to touch me all over._

I roll over onto my side and pull my cell phone free from my jeans and scroll through my contacts and stop when I reach Rukia. I stare at the screen for nearly thirty seconds before pressing the call button and I hold it up to my ear and I listen to it ring and ring until it's her voice mail and her shitty voice and I unload all of my guilt and shame and anger onto her again, telling her how she never deserved anybody like me and how I hope she's happy with the fucking choices she's made in her life and how I hope the man she's with cries every goddamned day over the child they've chosen to get rid of. I remind her what a bitch she is and I feel sick as I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks and I do nothing to wipe them away as I tell her I'll never talk to her again and I'm fine with it because I'm putting it all behind me and that she can forget that I even exist and the world will be a better place for it.

And I regret everything I have just said because it isn't the real truth and I know what I really have to say.

"You were right. It was always me," I say breathily, "I've always been the problem. I'm just one big problem, and you were right, and now it's over. I'm sorry."

I hang up and throw my phone, uncaring of where it lands as I roll back onto my back and stare up at the ceiling covered in posters, many of them signed and I pretend that I have a rad life like Grimmjow, am as crazy and as carefree as Grimmjow, that I'm the kind of guy that can command a room with my body language alone and that my grin either strikes fear into other's hearts or stirs heat in their groins. I think about being the kind of guy that can go out to the club and fuck another male in the girl's bathroom like it's no big deal and don't care if somebody I know walks in and witnesses the whole thing.

I put a hand over my heart and breathe slowly, the salt from my tears feeling strange as they dry on my face.

I'm too wired to sleep; too tired to stay awake.

The music has changed tracks, something off of Red's album 'Innocence and Instinct', and I'm wondering what a Christian band is doing on one of Grimmjow's cds but I find myself humming along to 'Take It All Away' regardless:

_'You've stripped me down, the layers fall like rain_

_It's over now, just innocence and instinct still remain…'_

The bed shifts as weight is added. He lies beside me quietly, staring at the same nothingness. Neither of us say anything because there is really nothing to say.

I finally crack because I'm worried he sees my tearstains, even though he really hasn't even looked at me and the room is dark and the moon is really our only light.

"You fucked a boy in the girl's bathroom," I say.

Grimmjow rubs over his abdomen with one of his hands, his tattooed knuckles grazing skin I wish I could lick, "Yeah. I guess I did."

"Did you even know his name?"

"Schiffer or something. Starrk deals to him sometimes."

"Huh."

"What?" Grimmjow turns his head to stare at me but I ignore him as I continue to stare at the ceiling.

"I fucked Nel there once," I say as if this makes sense.

"You're drunk."

"So're you."

"Hn."

We listen to about three more songs before I finally say, "Would you ever try to fuck me in the girl's bathroom?"

Belle Epoque's 'Keeping The Innocent' is slamming my brains as I wait for Grimmjow to answer:

_'Try your best, you might just get them to follow you, but it's better than giving in…_

_I can see them, getting closer, make your move this will all soon be over…'_

"Christ, Ichigo."

_'We are the chosen ones, we are called to endure…holding fast our words, we will endure…_

_Hold me down, drag this out, I will fight with my eyes wide open…_

_Hold me down, drag this out, I will fight with my eyes wide open…!'_

"I can't even fucking hate her," I say, beginning to ramble from my nerves, "Five fucking years with that bitch and we end like this. What's wrong with me? What the fuck is my problem? Even after everything, I can't fuckin' hate her. I want to. I want to so bad."

"Fuck that cunt," Grimmjow says, "You don't belong with her."

"I don't belong anywhere."

"Don't pull this emo shit on me," he says right before saying, "you belong with me."

I don't know what to make of this, but I'm feeling high and drunk and vulnerable so I cuddle into his side and throw my arm across the tan strip of his stomach not covered by the white wife beater and try to hold myself together because he doesn't fight it.

_'…if they are broken, we will teach them. If they are broken, we will hold them. If they are broken, we will keep them, we will keep them…'_

_..._

**I know I promised to focus on my other stories, but this dream I had would not leave me alone and it led me here. Please review I'm curious.**


	2. Something Sane

**Hope Dangles On A String**

Chapter 2.

…..

_'I bet you laugh at the thought of me thinking for myself. I bet you believe that I'm better off with you than someone else.' –Silverstein 'My Heroine'_

…

My tongue feels swollen and I move sluggishly.

I'm not awake but I'm not dead either.

So this heat is real and I realize that I've fallen asleep next to Grimmjow. Again.

My head is pounding and my eyes refuse to focus and I feel a hand slide across my stomach, lower, lower, until searching fingers are caught on my belt buckle.

I feel hot. I'm aroused.

My dick starts to harden and I feel Grimmjow's breath fan across my neck and my skin tingles dangerously and my breath hitches and I hear him grunt as he begins to come back to the plain of reality.

Neither of us want to be here, but there's nowhere else to go where we're this silent, this comfortable. It's a heady contradiction that makes my throat tighten as heat begins to pool in my groin. His hand feels so hot against my exposed skin and for a moment I lose what little sanity I have left and I shift my hips, allowing his calloused fingers to graze against the soft skin below my belly button. A jolt of pleasure races down my spine and I arch my back and moan.

And then I feel his tongue on my ear and I buck and my eyes shoot open and I gasp and his throaty chuckle sounds so sexy I can feel a wetness in my boxers and I'm embarrassed.

"Naughty," he says, moving his hand up to pull at the side of my neck, bringing me closer to his face. His blue eyes aren't glassy like last night, clearer now and I let out a shaky breath as he presses his firm lips against mine and I whine so pathetically I can't believe he doesn't pull away from me.

His tongue is wet and I open my mouth and I'm sucking on it with a sudden ferocity that neither of us expected and I arch into him and his tongue begins to massage mine and I feel my eyes rolling in the back of my head and I'm dripping wet and I'm wondering how hard he is when I hear his phone start blaring his favorite song by Sick Puppies:

_'I hate you when you're gone, I hate you turn me on,_

_I hate the way I need you when I don't know where you are…_

_I love it even more when I find you on the floor,_

_I know you think you hate me but I will always hate you more…!'_

He bites my bottom lip harshly and I hiss as he pulls away from me to rut around for his phone and answers it with a snarl in his voice. He listens for a minute and says something snarky back while I lose interest.

"Don't be a bitch," he says into the reciever, pulling a cigarette out of a carton with his teeth and finds a lighter on the nightstand. He lights it and is still turned away from me as he continues the conversation and I'm red-faced and slightly shocked that I had allowed to happen what had just happened, something that had always been forbidden in my mind for a long, long time.

I get up from the bed and make my way to his tiny bathroom and lock the door behind me. I turn on the shower, undress, and get under the warming spray.

I jack off. _Too fast_.

Soap up and rinse.

Grimmjow bangs on the door, telling me to hurry my ass up because he wants a shower before work.

I come out a few minutes later smelling like his spicy body wash and it makes me half hard again. He looks at me with eyes that say he knows and I tell him I'll hit him up later before putting on my white Vans and dipping out of his apartment before either of us can explain anything.

…

No one's in when I get home and I'm thankful. It's nearly one in the afternoon and I realize how hungry I am and decide to gorge on junk food.

I'm halfway through a dubbed version of the Boondock Saints when my phone starts up and my stomach flip flops when I realize I haven't changed the Hollywood Undead ringtone Rukia assigned me for all of my incoming calls:

'So you look to me to find the truth and what I say is what you do but everyone you look up to is really as fucked up as you, time is getting shorter with these enforced disorders, and we get blamed and pushed around, who's the fuckin' villain now…?'

I check the caller ID and answer, and something stirs in the back of my mind as I listen to Inoue launch into how upset she is with me and why the fuck did I not say anything to her the night before?

"What are you talking about?"

"I went to pick up Rukia just now to take her downtown," Inoue elaborates, sounding like she's on the verge of tears, "and when I asked her about the baby, and she told me it wasn't yours, I kicked her out of my car and told her to go fuck herself! Why didn't you say anything, Ichi? God I feel so awful for agreeing to go with her! Christ, I just…I know you and Rukia were having problems, but I still thought…I still thought it was yours."

Now she's sobbing and I'm numb except for this intense pain in my lower abdomen and behind my eyelids, "Where are you now?"

"I pulled off onto the shoulder of the road. I'm so upset I can't even drive!" she wails, making a sound that sounds like slapping the steering wheel repeatedly, "I thought she was my friend! How could she betray you like this, Ichi? I can't…I can't even look at her. I never want to see her face again! Ichi, Ichi are you still there?"

I've been quiet so long that I've forgotten I was here myself, "Do you want me to come get you?"

"Ichigo," she says as angrily as possible through tears, "I want you to know that I will never, EVER forgive her! She can rot in hell and I hope the needle prick she screwed burns forever!"

Inoue's emotions are all over the place and all I want to do is pop a few Valiums and go to bed, but I don't, because my friend needs me and is hurting as much as I am, because Inoue trusted her like the sister she never had and I'm the orange-headed brother she never had and I feel like I have to protect her no matter what, "I'm coming to get you."

"No, no you don't have to do that," she sniffs, taking a steadying breath, "I just need a couple minutes to pull myself together. Just a few minutes."

"You comin' over?" I ask, pulling my legs close to my body and wrapping my free hand around my knees. I have the sudden urge to start crying but the numb feeling hasn't left yet, "I can make you a late breakfast."

Inoue snorts, "That's called lunch, Ichi."

"I'm feeling pancakes," I reply, knowing that Inoue, being the brilliant chef she is, would never allow anyone to cook for her. Besides Tatsuki, of course, "with lots of butter and sugary syrup so that I can get fat."

She laughs.

She's not even here yet and I already feel better.

…

"Ohmigod," Inoue annunciates with wide doe eyes, "You really kissed him?"

I nod as we lay on my bedroom floor, our heads cushioned by my pillows, our legs draped over the side of my bed like old times, my stereo blasting a mix cd with everything from the Dresden Dolls to Sugarcult. The track changes to 'Die Romantic' by Aiden when I decide to elaborate.

"We were both drunk, high. Fucked out of our minds," I breathe, my hands resting on my full stomach, "but I'd be lying if it wasn't the best kiss I've ever had."

"Omigod!" she shrieks again, kicking her legs against the side of the bed and making mine shake, "Omigod omigod omigod! Jesus, Ichi, that's fucking awesome! He's gorgeous. How long have you liked him?"

Damn. _Never. Forever. Take your pick_. "I don't know."

"He can be such a dick, but in a good way, y'know?"

I don't really know, but I nod my head anyway, "Don't say anything, alright? I've been spilling my guts out to you and I don't do that for just anybody."

"Awww," she coos, kissing me chastely on the cheek before staring up at my empty ceiling again, "I wish I had gotten to know him better in high school. He was always so standoffish, so cocky: as fucking arrogant as they come, but still. I can see why you like him."

"That's the problem. I don't know why," I say, scratching at my balls through the pajama bottom material. Inoue and I have been friends for forever so she doesn't say anything even though I know the action grosses her out slightly, "But I don't know why I do a lot of shit in my life."

"Nobody does," Inoue sighs, "but maybe this is the big change you've been waiting for."

I don't agree or disagree. Instead we lay in companionable silence for another hour before Inoue gets a text from Tatsuki and Inoue brightens and wants to know if I want to hit up Tatsuki's house for a little get-together. She doesn't live far from my neighborhood. I feel ridiculously apathetic, but her face looks so eager I decide to tag along.

She waits for me to get dressed, which doesn't take long, considering I slide into grey jeans and cover my wife beater I'd been wearing with a flannel half-sleeve. I leave it unbuttoned and don't bother to brush my hair and Inoue wants to drive but she gets angry with me when I try to light a cigarette in her red Honda.

The party is actually more of a barbeque, considering the sun hasn't even gone down yet and the smell of ribs is making my mouth water as we walk around the back of the house and open a metal gate to see about a dozen people congregated by fold-out tables covered in snacks, food, and beer as they wait for the meat to finish. Tatsuki spots us immediately and comes over, hugging my side before planting a kiss on Inoue's temple and whispering something to her before her back stiffens and her eyes go wide and I know whatever was said was not a good thing.

"She can't fucking be here," Inoue hisses and I instantly feel bile in the back of my throat.

"She's in the house. She rang at the front and I answered," Tatsuki said with a serious face, "She sounded desperate, Hime. I didn't want to cause a scene in front of my family."

It takes a few minutes for me to realize Inoue is tapping my shoulder repeatedly. I say nothing; just stare at her like there's really no other option.

"Go see her," I croak, walking away from the pair and heading straight for the cans of beer sitting pretty in a bucket of ice on the table. I pop one and chug it, Tatsuki's mother smiling and asking how my college classes are going even though I'm on break while her little sister peaks at me from behind her mother's lawn chair like I'm an alien. A beer-drinking alien.

I pop a second beer open as I answer her useless questions, and I'm starting on my third beer when Tatsuki's father announces that the meat's ready and people I assume to be Tatsuki's kin rush the table and I take a step back and finish my beer and realize that Chad has been staring at me from the side of the lawn for a while now, his tropical shirt hurting my eyes.

"Hey Ichigo," he says, approaching me. I crumble the beer can in my hand, wishing I was anywhere else right now, thinking about anything else other then the fact that my ex-girlfriend was inside of Tatsuki's house. Right. Fucking. Now.

"What's up?" I finally reply, pulling my nearly empty pack of smokes from my back pocket and lighting one. I offer Chad one and he takes it and I hold up my lighter and light it for him like a proper gentleman.

We both take a few drags and I realize that he's been staring at me intently and I know he knows how I feel right now because that's who Chad has always been.

"You don't have to stay," he says in that deep baritone, his hair flopped over one eye while the other looks at me with what I hope isn't pity.

"I know," I say back, stubbing out my finished cigarette and approaching the table to slide another beer. I grab two, thinking it would be rude not to offer, and approach Chad and hold it out. He takes it, seeming to know that I need someone not to judge me right now and just drink with me and to fuck further conversation.

Chad has always been good like that. The silent friend. I should give him more credit than I do.

I'm starting to feel the buzz and the kids are loud and the sun's hot on my back and neck and Chad is still looking at me like I might melt into the grass and never come back.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I say lamely.

I bail.

I go in through the back porch entrance and navigate Tatsuki's house like I used to do when we used to come over for parties in high school. Her dad had always traveled a lot and sometimes her mother would go with him, leaving Tatsuki home to babysit a young sister. She'd pay a babysitter to watch the toddler so that she could go all out. Ikkaku would bring over stereo equipment and play DJ while Renji and I lugged in the kegs. We'd all drink and dance and pass out wherever there was space. One time I had woken up on a blow up raft in the pool, a half-empty can of Mountain Dew in my hand. Another time I'd woken up in Tatsuki's huge closet, Rukia in nothing but her bra and underwear and when I'd gotten up to take a piss, I'd found Tatsuki and Inoue fucking around stark naked in her canopy bed and I'd gotten hard.

There were a lot of fucking memories in this house.

And there was about to be another one, because when I left the bathroom and was heading back towards the porch, I saw Rukia come flying down the stairs, tears streaming from her eyes. She pushed against the front door, sobbing as she opened it, and I don't know why I said what I said but I did and she heard me.

"It's okay."

She looks at me. Her body stiffens as she realizes who I am, and by this time Tatsuki and Inoue have come down the stairs too, both of them stopping before they've reached the bottom step, Inoue's eyes red and swollen and Tatsuki's eyes glazed with unshed tears.

"Go to hell!" she screams at me, her voice practically echoing in the huge living space.

"Rukia!" Tatsuki growls, "You will not disrespect Ichigo in my house!"

"Why?" Rukia wipes at her bleeding mascara with her hands, "Why couldn't you do it, Ichigo? Why couldn't you just fucking love me?"

"I did," I say, but I don't know how loud I say it because it sounds like a whisper to me, "I really did, Rukia."

"Bullshit," she hisses, wiping at her face again, "You held me, you fucked me, but you never loved me. Admit it, Ichigo. Whatever it was that you fucking felt for me, it wasn't love, even I know it. That's why we kept splitting, why I broke up with you, why I'd always take you back, why you'd always take me back. We'd hurt each other, go fuck someone else, but we'd always come back. We always came back, didn't we, Ichigo? But I can't do that anymore; I can't wait for you to fall in love with me, because you never will. You don't love anybody, Ichigo, not even yourself."

"That's not true," I say robotically. I feel like I'm not even here. I'm not here and nothing is happening, but then I realize that it is real and we are here and this is really happening right now and I feel shame and anger wash through me again and the four beers I've had are rolling in my stomach, protesting.

"It is," Rukia says almost coldly, "and it took a baby to prove it. What if it's yours, Ichigo?"

My vision goes blurry and blackness creeps in around the edges but I don't fall. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me and for a second I fall for that lie but then I remember that we were separated and she was fucking someone else and that I hadn't touched her since a few days before she had told me about the pregnancy and how far along she was and I had instantly known that it wasn't mine. And that was what had helped break us for the final time, and I had thought after last night I would never have to see her again, but how naïve was that?

Rukia was right: I was selfish. I did think for myself. We had a lot of friends in common; we had been bound to cross paths sooner or later. Even if my friends disowned her in favor of me, I didn't know exactly how to feel about that. I didn't need anyone's pity.

"But it's not. It's not mine, Rukia."

She snorted, "Tell me, Ichigo, do you love your friends?"

"Of course I do," I say, not knowing what she was getting at.

"How much, Ichigo? How much do you love your friends?" she spits, walking closer to me and suddenly I feel like a scared little boy with no one to defend me and it's ridiculous but it's true nonetheless.

"I'd die for them," I say with conviction, knowing I'm not lying.

Rukia is closer than ever now and I instinctively take a step back away from her and she flinches, and then there's this moment where her eyes tell me everything I need to know, that she's going to break what's left of me right now, in this very moment, because she knows something that I don't and it will destroy me.

"You wanted to know who the father is," Rukia says bitterly, looking over at Orihime and Tatsuki again. Inoue throws her hands over her mouth before disappearing back up the stairs, Tatsuki torn as to what to do.

She stays. She stays for me. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay her, even though I know she's only staying because Inoue left because she knows and the truth is crippling and scary.

"Don't," I say, my hands shaking slightly at my sides, "Don't destroy me too."

"It's Grimmjow," she says with a smirk, "Grimmjow-mother-fucking-Jaegerjaques."

My vision blurs.

Then it's red.

Then I hear Tatsuki yell and feel her arms on me and I don't know why. My vision won't clear.

I see nothing.

I feel nothing.

Someone's struggling.

I feel little feet kicking at me, but it's nothing. It's like flies buzzing, and I don't care.

Tatsuki has me in a chokehold and she's screaming, and I feel warmth under my fingers, my tightening fingers and I can't hear anything because I'm screaming so loud.

I drown everything out.

_Breathe._

Suddenly I'm pulled backwards. I don't struggle. There's no point.

_It's over._

Chad has his giant arms hooked under my armpits, his forearms keeping my arms from thrashing. Tatsuki's helping Rukia off of the floor who is holding her neck with tears streaming down her face. She's screaming something at me, but the blood pounding in my ears drowns everything out.

"You're lying!" I scream, thrashing my legs, "You bitch! You're lying!"

She coughs as she rubs her throat and Tatsuki's pushing her out the front door, threatening her, telling her to never show her face here again.

"Tell me you love him more than me!" Rukia screams at the tops of her lungs, "Tell me you're willing to die for him!"

And then she's gone and I'm alone and I'm nothing.

Inoue's arms are wrapped around my stomach, her face pressed into my chest, her tears soaking my shirt.

My legs give out. Chad goes down on his knees with me at the sudden drop of force and weight, and I close my eyes and Inoue's crying and I have nothing left inside of me.

Nothing at all.

….

I'm dragged up to Tatsuki's room some time later, after everything has settled down and Tatsuki's parents are no longer threatening to call the cops or worried. Rukia had disappeared after Tatsuki had slammed the door in her face, but the damage had already been done.

So here we sit: Tatsuki, Inoue, and even Chad, watching me warily as I sit on the carpeted floor, pull out my cell phone, and dial Starrk.

He picks up on the second ring. I tell him what I want and how much without actually using the words. He agrees to meet me by my neighborhood park in an hour with what I need. I hang up and they're staring at me like I'm about to commit suicide.

"What are you going to do, Ichigo?" Tatsuki says quietly.

I lean back against the side of the bed, a smirk forming on my face, "Nothing. I'll just do what I always do. Get fucked out of my mind and go party. What else is there?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Inoue replies, no longer crying but her eyes are still rimmed with red and for a second I feel horrible about everything that's happened, but in the next instant I'm numb again and I'm thinking about what Rukia said about how I don't love anyone and I have to admit that my declaration of dying for my friends had just been breached.

Or had it? Had it really? I didn't have an answer.

Instead I start laughing. They let me, even though I'm getting a bit hysterical. When I'm finally calm enough to talk properly, I say, "Do you want to know the sickest part? I don't hate him. I don't want to kill him. I would take a bullet for him right FUCKING now."

"Ichigo," Inoue says in barely a whisper and I know she's thinking about what I revealed to her, although Chad and Tatsuki believe it's some form of undying loyalty or the deepness of our friendship.

How wrong we all are.

"I don't want to think about anything right now," I say, looking them all in the eyes, "So you're either with me or against me. Which is it?"

"You know we love you," Inoue says in an agitated tone, "Don't be stupid, Ichigo."

Yes. Stupid. It sums me up nicely.

To not only be betrayed by my girlfriend, but my…my…shit, what was Grimmjow to me? There are no words for him. I wonder what words he uses for me.

And then I remember our morning kiss and our drunken slumber and how he looked right after sex in that bathroom and I feel my stomach heave and I'm off the floor in an instant and running to Tatsuki's in-suite bathroom and puking my brains out into the toilet.

Then I'm spitting repeatedly and breathing heavily and resting on the cold tile floor and I feel so pathetic I want nothing more than to cry but I can't and it's frustrating.

…..

I meet Starrk at the park despite Tatsuki's and Inoue's protests. Chad tags along. Good old Chad.

The exchange is brief and sweet and now I've got four grams and I give one to Chad and tell him it's for all the trouble I've caused. He shakes his head and tells me he'll always have my back, through thick and thin, and for a moment I believe him.

We walk to the nearest public bathroom, lock ourselves in a stall, and start doing key bumps. I do about ten before rubbing my nose and checking for residue and Chad pockets what's left of his gram and we continue on our way back to my house. I shower and change into black skinny jeans and a black tee that says _SOUL REAPER REVOLUTION_ that I got at a concert last summer. I ask my old man for the keys and he gives them to me, pretending not to notice that I'm on the verge of tweaking and Chad's getting a little antsy.

I drive us back to his pad, which is a decent apartment near the college we both attend when it's in session, a place he shares with Ikkaku and Keigo. We mount the stairs quickly and I throw myself on the couch while I wait for Chad to shower and change himself. Keigo comes out of his bedroom, dark circles under his eyes as he plops down next to me in nothing but Don Kanonji boxers.

"Bro, you got any?" he says, running his hands through his hair.

"How long you been up?" I ask.

"About three days," he says, eying the baggie I pull from my wallet. I clear a space on the coffee table in front of the television and watch it drop. Keigo runs to the kitchenette area and comes back with a razor blade and starts chopping, "Went on a bender with this really fucking hot chick and a kid that claims he can get us passes to see ESPADA this coming fall."

"Shut the fuck up," I say right before asking for a straw. Keigo goes back to the kitchen and comes back with a wrapped McDonald's straw and hands it to me. I take the razorblade, cut it in half at a slant, and wait for Keigo to finish making the rails.

"You first, man," Keigo says, slapping my shoulder, "It's your shit."

"Yeah."

I lean down. Snort one.

Two. Three.

And one more for good luck.

I throw my head back.

Sniff hard.

My eyes water.

Keigo's looking at me like I'm god.

_I'm alive. _

…..

We start with our favorite bar, a little place called Urahara's. The owner, Urahara, is the coolest old dude ever. I've been tight with him for years, and even though he looks like he could still be in college thanks to his good looks, he's actually as old as my dad. That doesn't stop him from getting grade-A pussy though.

I start laughing hysterically when he can't take his eyes off of Inoue and he slides me another Jaeger shot to shut me the hell up.

After hanging there for a bit, we bounce to this new club Inoue wants to check out. It's dark and shadowy and this techno shit is blasting and rocking my brain and I find myself not hating it and I get into it when this girl who's as high as I am pulls me into the crowd and starts dancing on me like I'm her personal pole. I don't stop her. Why would I?

I glance over my shoulder to see Tatsuki and Orihime getting down on the dance floor as well, their hands on each other's hips as they start getting a little dirty and I can't help but think how hot they are together. Tatsuki's black hair is spiked all over the place, her skirt small and tight, black leggings underneath, showing off her calf tattoos, one a portrait of an angel's face and the other of a demon's, her white shredded top showing off most of her back, not to mention she's wearing these black pumps with spikes on them that make her legs look long and sexy and hot and I find myself thinking that if she liked dick I'd fuck her so fast she'd get whiplash.

Inoue is just as smoking in a tight white pleated skirt covered in chains, her black top sleeveless with a curved neck that shows off most of her cleavage, her long purple streaked orange-brown hair all over the place as they get lost in the music. I laugh when I realize she's wearing the same baby blue pumps I saw her in the night before.

The girl I'm with is starting to annoy me so I tell her to fuck off and make my way over to my friends and join them and they smile because they're as drunk as I am although not high and we put on a show for the rest of the dance floor. I've forgotten completely about Chad but I had seen him at the bar chatting up a really cute bartender about an hour ago and figure he's fine.

Besides, I'm no babysitter. Never have been. Especially not now, not when I'm…

I don't think about it again. I don't want to think about anything except the moment and the track changes to something even more unfamiliar then the last but no less entertaining and time flies past me like it never cared about me at all.

….

It's past three in the morning when I stumble down the hallway and start banging on the door, knowing someone will answer.

The door finally does open and I'm surprised to see Renji standing in nothing but shredded jeans, his long crimson hair down around his face, his tribal tattoos absolutely everywhere. He reeks of pot and I can hear Guns N' Roses in the background.

"Holy shit, bro," he says with a snarky smile, "What the fuck you been doin'?"

I shove past him to see that blonde chick and she gets up off of the couch and approaches me and throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek and tells me her name is Halibel and she wants to fuck me so hard right now she can't even stand it.

"She on E?" I ask as Renji comes back into the room, unconcerned that his latest fuck is wrapped around me and attempting to gnaw my ear off with her teeth.

He plops down on the couch and stares at a massive pile of blow, "Yah, and some other shit. I'm too blitzed right now to fuck, so you can have her if you want."

Starrk comes out of the hallway, holding a blunt that he had to have rolled in a master cigar it's so thick. So that's what wreaked of pot, "Oi, where you been at? We hit up _VIZORED'S _but we didn't see you."

"I went anywhere but there," I reply at the same time Halibel tries to palm my growing erection.

"I wanna get off," she says into my ear and I'm fucked out of my mind and ready for anything so I take her by the hand and walk her back to Grimmjow's bedroom, the only room in the apartment with privacy and Starrk looks at me and says, "Welcome back, man."

…..

I don't even bother to close the door behind me and push her down onto Grimmjow's bed. She's already hiking her skirt up above her hips and I'm pulling at her thong and as soon as I slip it off of her legs she's trying to pull me to her and I kiss her but I feel nothing. I pull back, unbuttoning my jeans. When I'm free, I tug at her shirt and start kissing her breasts and she moans and she's warm and I'm starting to feel really good and she's telling me to get inside her now, that she can't wait anymore.

I kick completely out of my jeans, realizing I'm still wearing my shirts but I don't care.

I slide into her and moan.

We moan together and I start moving. She locks her legs around me and is gnawing on my neck and licking and sucking and I'm slapping into her with enough force to shake the bed.

She starts mewling, her breathing getting more and more erratic as she gets lost in the overwhelming sensations and I'm sweating and I don't care about anything anymore.

I feel intense heat in my abdomen.

My balls tighten.

But before I can come, I feel arms pulling me backward and I feel myself slip out of that tight heat and I'm suddenly furious and ready for a fight. Strong hands push me up against a wall, hard enough to knock my head back and then Grimmjow's screaming for the blonde slut to get the fuck up out of his apartment and never come back.

Grimmjow's forearm is cutting off my air supply and I'm struggling and Renji appears in the bedroom doorway, asking questions in a loud voice and Grimmjow's yelling at everybody to get the hell out or he'll kill them all.

Grimmjow slams the bedroom door in Renji's face and turns back to me, but by now I'm not taking any of his shit and I'm pissed that he's turned into such a fucking pansy cock blocker and I punch him so hard on the side of the face that I feel like my knuckles are broken and I fall against the wall, breathing heavily.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demands, rage apparent in his voice.

"You're not the fucking boss of me!" I scream back, charging at his torso but he easily maneuvers me into a headlock and I'm struggling and not giving up.

He throws me on the bed and we tumble and I kick him in the knee but then he's on top of me, pinning me down and I realize that my cock is ramrod hard and throbbing and the friction he creates makes me moan loudly.

"I asked what the _fuck are you doing?_" he growls, his breath hot on my face and I try to roll out from under him but that just rubs our pelvises together and this time I hiss as I feel my pre-cum soaking into his jeans.

"Fucking!" I growl, my nails raking across his arms, "Let me go you fucking bastard!"

"I'll kill that bitch for touching you!" he says heatedly right before I feel his hand on my throbbing cock.

I buck and I cry out but he won't let go and I feel my hips begin to respond instinctually and I'm grinding against his hand and I need to get off so bad that I just don't care anymore.

"Fuck you, I hate you," I manage as I wrap my hands around his throat.

For a second he looks like I shot him, and I must be drunker than I thought because I'm pressing with all my might and he doesn't even look like he's hurting and my body feels like hot soup and my brain is fuzzy and filled with electricity and all the blood in my body is pounding in my cock and I can't believe he's touching me he's touching me he's touching me…

"I fucking hate you," I say right before I pull his head down and start biting his lips.

Bites become kisses, my tongue desperate to get inside of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and captain, spicy and heady and I'm about to cum just from the thought of his tongue in my mouth because suddenly it is and his hand is still fisting me and I feel my hips press against him and I can feel his hard on through his jeans on my thigh and I know, I just know there's no going back.

"Fuck me," I say against his lips, pressing myself against him so that he grunts into my mouth, "Just fuck me, Grimmjow. Fuck me through the mattress. I wanna know how she felt."

He must be blind by lust at this point because all he does is growl and push me farther up the bed and my head hits the headboard so hard I see stars.

My breathing is erratic as he attacks me.

He's desperate, I'm desperate, and it's only made worse because we both feel betrayal so deep it's coursing through our blood and ingrained in our bones.

I don't know if fucking that blonde in his bed had been subconscious revenge. Perhaps it was, but it doesn't matter now, because I had set something in motion that should have never been but it's okay because everything has already been taken away from me forever.

I shudder as the truth crashes into me with lightning clarity, my drug and alcohol-muddled mind crystal clear for a glimpse into the ultimate truth for just this one moment.

This isn't how it's supposed to be. I've failed. I can't stop touching him and he won't stop touching me. I'm terrified and I can't breathe but he's kissing me and I will go to hell before I ever deny him anything.

I don't know who I am anymore.

I feel wetness on my lips and realize that I'm bleeding, or he's bleeding, or we're both bleeding and my nails are digging into his shoulders and raking down his arms so ferociously that he curses and sits up only long enough to throw his shirt away from him and start attacking me again.

His hands are everywhere and I'm gasping as I leave his body long enough to tug on my own shirts. He obliges me and throws them away from us off of the bed and into the darkness that threatens to eat us alive.

His hands trace along my sides and his thumbs grind into my hip bones before he starts licking and nipping and kissing my flesh and I'm on fire and I can't stop my legs from spreading slightly to accommodate him and I feel my dick stir and my asshole tighten in anticipation because I've never slept with a man but I know what's coming.

I hear Grimmjow spit into his hand and it's fast and horrible but he licks my dick in apology and I try to ignore the fingers stretching my insides and I try to focus on the fact that Grimmjow's mouth is paying careful attention to my cock right now and that I should be grateful.

He grips my thighs more firmly and lifts me slightly and I hear him spit and I feel it smack against my entrance and I whine as he adds another finger and he groans as I tighten around him and I'm panting so hard now I don't care what he does to me as long as I stop hurting.

"Come on!" I practically scream as I begin to pump myself and my breath hitches as I think I'm about to cum but he pries my fingers away and flips me over and now I'm face first in the bed sheets and I hear a zipper and the weight on the bed shifts and I feel his large hands caress my spine and I shiver as his hands go to my inner thighs and roughly pull my legs apart and I feel his tongue glide over the sensitive skin just above my ass crack and I'm screaming again.

"Fuck, Ichi," he breathes. I feel his hot wet cock press against my entrance and I shudder again, "Too fucking long."

I want to ask him what he means. I want to ask him when the first time he thought about taking me had occurred, but my voice leaves me as he pushes into me with no warning and my elbows lock and I scream as he slides completely into me, my inner walls contracting and sore at the intrusion.

I'm cursing and on the verge of sobbing but I feel him leaving kisses down my rigid spine, his hands massaging my hips and lower back and I feel myself relax and then he moves slightly and my hips press back and he rotates his hips.

He pulls a few inches out and presses back in, and soon he's created a rhythm that has me moaning, my fingers fisted in the sheets below me and my head turned to the side as I pant, my leaking cock neglected beneath me as he pulls at my hips again. The muscles in my legs are shaking as I support his thrusts, his thrusts that take him into me and away, over and over again.

I listen to his balls slap against my ass and then I feel it and I scream and shudder and feel my toes curl because he grazed something inside of me that is so deep and perfect that I can't breathe anymore.

I groan. Tell him more. _Faster_.

We're sweating and grunting and it's terrible and beautiful all at once and I can't believe how fucked my life is and how wrong this is but it's what I need right now and neither of us can ignore what our bodies are doing together.

I need him. I need him more than I ever needed Rukia. I need him more than air or time or reason.

He strikes that place inside of me again and I scream as I come, realizing I didn't even need to touch myself or have him handle me. He continues to slap against me, breathing heavily as I ride out my intense orgasm, sweat dripping down my back and settling in the groove at the base of my spine and his hands slide against my ass cheeks as he spreads them and spears himself as deeply as he can possibly go.

I make a small choking sound as I feel him cum inside me, the warmth overwhelming. My spent cock is actually coming back to life as he pulls out of me, his cum now dripping down my ass and the backs of my legs.

I fall to my side, feeling strangely empty and confused.

But now I know what Rukia experienced. Now I know who the better man was, and I run my hands over my face before I roll out of the bed and limp to his bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I step into the shower only after the bathroom has filled with steam and take a scalding hot shower, running my hands through my hair, scrubbing my scalp until I feel as if it will bleed. I soap my entire body down and am extremely careful with my ass. I step out, towel off and grab a pair of torn sweat pants that have been lying on the bathroom counter since yesterday.

I wander back into Grimmjow's bedroom, wanting to wake from this nightmare. He's cleaned himself up and has thrown a clean sheet over the one's we've dirtied. His hair is wet and slicked back and I wonder if he washed his face in the bathroom sink while I was gone and he's not smoking.

Grimmjow always smokes after a fuck.

"You're not smoking," I say, my voice sounding dead.

"Don't wanna," he replies, hitting a button on his stereo before staring at me again. I try not to stare at his impressive chest, at the chiseled abs and smooth pectorals or the panther claws tattooed on his side that had been a result of a drunken night out on the town.

"You always smoke after a fuck," I say numbly, laying back down on the bed, my head resting on a pillow, my eyes heavy as I stare over at him, "Or was that not good enough?"

"What did you mean?" Grimmjow says, slinking into the bed and sitting up to rest his back against the headboard, "Who were you talking about?"

We sit in the dark silence until another song comes on and I finally croak, "Rukia."

He looks at me, really looks at me, and I can't look away, and I know that, right now, no matter what, Grimmjow is completely innocent, that Rukia is a liar and I fed into her lie.

"I've never," he says lowly, his eyes locked on mine, "touched her. And I never fucking will. I don't want her, Ichi."

I know what his next question is, but I don't want to answer it.

"Is that why you tried to fuck Hal tonight? To hurt me?"

"I don't know. I really fucking don't know, Grimmjow."

We sit in silence as we listen to the music, the song changing over to '_The Silent Screaming_' by Legion of Doom:

_'I'm missing your bed, I never sleep,_

_avoiding the spots where we'd have to speak,_

_and this bottle of beast is taking me home…_

_I'm reading your note over again, and there's not a word that I comprehend,_

_Except when you signed it_

_I will love you always and forever…'_

"You believed that bitch," he says.

_'I'm missing your laugh_

_How did it break?_

_And when did your eyes begin to look fake?_

_I hope you're as happy as you're pretending...'_

"I don't know."

_'I'm cuddling close_

_to blankets and sheets_

_and I am alone_

_In my defeat I wish I knew you were safely at home...'_

"I don't know what I want," I say quietly and I feel tears spill over my cheeks and I stare up at the ceiling and wipe them away.

_'Reports of lover's tryst_

_Were neither clear nor descript_

_We kept it safe and slow_

_The quiet things that no one ever knows…'_

"I just want you. Fuck, Ichi, that's all I've ever wanted."

_'So keep the blood in your head_

_And keep your feet on the ground_

_Todays' the day it gets tired_

_Today's the day we drop down_

_Gave up my body and bed_

_All for an empty hotel_

_Wasting words on lower cases and capitals…!'_

"I'm so stupid," I say, wiping at my eyes again and refusing to move, "We're so stupid, Grimmjow."

_"Do you leave your razorblades lying around?"_

_"Don't be a philistine Winnie."_

"I know."

I turn on my side and face him, "Things are gonna be different now?"

I say it like a question because I don't know anything about absolutes. Grimmjow has always been wild, untamable, and if what he's saying is the truth then I think I can believe him because I trust him more than anyone and because I trust him I'm willing to let him rip my heart right out of my chest if that's what it takes to keep him for myself.

_"Look, darling, hasn't this gone a little too far?"_

_"It certainly has."_

_And I…._

_So keep the blood in your head_

_And keep your feet on the ground…!"_

He lies down next to me and holds me and I don't cry again and I think _that's the answer I need._

For the first time in what feels like my entire life, I breathe and feel lighter than air.

…

**A special thank you to my reviewers. I appreciate all of the feedback and I am beyond floored that you guys are responding so positively to this idea. To answer Midnight Tune's question, yes, I did dream the first chapter, but not with Bleach characters. To answer a few of your guys' joint question, yes, I was considering leaving this a one-shot but I felt I could flesh the characters out just a bit more and explain more in regards to the relationships. I believe that there will be one more chapter to wrap everything up, but who knows? I may find more angst to use. When I have this out of my system, I will be returning to updating my other stories and everyone can rest easy. Thank you for your support and I hope everyone had a good holiday. ~TPP**


	3. The Execution

**Hope Dangles on a String**

Chapter 3.

…..

_'Give me one good reason to believe 'cuz I swear I'm done here.' –Mayday Parade "Still Breathing"_

….

When I wake up I'm alone.

This does not confuse me.

I roll over, sit up, then finally drag myself out of Grimmjow's bed.

I take the borrowed sweat pants off before dressing back in the clothes I was wearing the night before, my muscles sore and stiff but utterly satisfied.

I trudge into the bathroom, run water over my face.

I stare at myself and think _what the fuck is wrong with you? _

My eyes are ringed in grey, the sclera veined and bloodshot. I start to freak myself out and think that my skin has this yellowish tinge to it, but then I realize that it's the shitty lighting of the two light bulbs that mount the sink mirror.

But my skin is sallow and extremely pale. I think to myself _what are you doing?_

_I don't know._

I've lost weight.

I look sickly. Fragile.

At least I think I do. I don't ever remember looking this pathetic, except when I was in middle school and had a growth spirt, before I bulked out, the days when I was looking like a string bean and I got in fights almost daily because other punks thought they could take me and my ridiculous hair.

And right now, I don't know how I would fair in a fight.

This thought forces me into action.

I leave the bathroom and head for the front door of the apartment, only to be stopped by the vision of Grimmjow sitting on the couch with chopsticks, picking at a container of leftover Chinese food. He's wearing these plastic black-rimmed reading glasses, the business section of the newspaper spread on his lap, the funnies on the table in front of him.

I notice that the coffee table is clean except for an abused ashtray.

"I didn't know you read the paper," I say offhandedly, still poised to walk out at any moment.

"Every day," he replies, setting the Chinese take out box on the coffee table and rustling the pages he has on his lap.

"Since when?"

He shrugs, "Since we started college. Three years?"

I feel stupid. I don't know why this fact bothers me so much, but it does. I've known Grimmjow for nearly ten years. I know his favorite color, his favorite band, the one person in the world he wants to kill more than anybody else, what he's allergic to, his secret indulgences. I know his height, weight, and the names of his deceased parents. I know he hates peanuts and loves almonds, and I know he will murder me if I ever tell anyone that he has an Artist Vs. Poet cd in his massive collection. I know he's ambidextrous and that he pierced his own ears in the sixth grade; that he works out five times a week even though he drinks more than anybody else I know.

"Why the fuck didn't I know that?" I say out loud.

He shrugs again, "It's not a big deal, Ichi."

I want to scream _yes it is a big deal_, but I don't.

"You hungry?" he says, nodding his head towards the kitchen, "There's more in the fridge. Or cereal. I have milk."

He scratches his head, and right when I think _this will never work_, he says, "Wait. You're lactose intolerant. Never mind."

I walk over to the couch, grab his head in both my hands, and kiss him on the mouth. I taste lo mien noodles and musk. It feels clumsy and stupid, but it's sincere and I hear him sigh.

I pull away, "I have some shit to do today, but I'll call you later."

I'm tugging on my shoes by the front door when he says, "What'd'ya gotta do?"

"A lot of things."

…..

The first thing I do is go home and change into comfortable, loose-fitting clothing.

I ask my dad for his gym membership card. He raises his brows, gives me a steady look, then starts hunting in his wallet. I say nothing because I'm not ready to start apologizing for all the stress I've caused him yet.

I hit the gym.

I'm sweating in less than five minutes, breathing hard in twenty, feeling like I'm going to die in forty.

But I push through, because, somehow, it feels good.

I jog home, which really isn't that far anyway, and I know it will take me a long, long time to get back to the endurance I had in high school. I had been on track all through my high school career. That's how I'd gotten close to Tatsuki, Orihime's interest at the time.

I laugh out loud at the thought of Tatsuki seeing me right now, this pathetic. She'd run circles around me. Maybe when she came home for breaks, we could run together again.

I shower and change.

I destroy my room, take it apart piece by piece.

Find every hiding spot I had ever conceived of.

A small mountain is now lying on my bed:

Five rolled joints.

Two dime bags.

A bottle of Xanex.

Valium.

A handful of Ecstasy.

Three grams of blow.

Four razor blades.

Ten lighters, most of them empty.

I go downstairs, find my dad watching reruns on the television and tell him I need to talk to him privately in my room.

He follows me with scared eyes, like I'm about to tell him he's going to be a grandfather.

I thank Kami that Rukia fucked me over, that I never had sex with her without protection.

He follows me into my room, I close the door behind him. He's staring at the pile of narcotics on my bed, his body tense. I move past him and sit on the bed next to the pile, staring at him staring at me.

We stare at each other for nearly a minute before I say, "I started using when mom died. Pills. Weed. Whatever. Then this kid in one of my freshman classes in college got me into cocaine. I've been abusing it for almost three years."

He's still staring between me and the pile, either too upset to say anything or waiting for me to finish. I continue, "I know you've known. I think you've known since day one, but I want you to know that I don't blame you for anything. Karin and Yuzu are still young, and you're tired, and you're still thinking about mom. I do too. I think about her a lot, and I know that if she could see the me that I am…the things I've done and the…well, I know she wouldn't be happy."

I stand up from the bed and grab the little plastic garbage can near my messy desk and bring it to the bed and start tossing everything into it. Everything, erasing it from the plane of existence, "You could've kicked me out. You could've yelled and screamed and ranted and preached, but you didn't. I kind of wish you had. Maybe I would've…I don't know. Maybe I would have listened, but…maybe this way was better. Maybe I did need to wake up. I just wanted you to know, Dad. I'm sorry."

He's staring at me with a stern expression and he takes a step forward. His hand comes out and for a second I think he's going to hit me.

But then I feel his arm wrap around my neck and he tugs me to him, and I'm hugging my father for the first time in years, _years_, and all of a sudden I'm sobbing and he's telling me that he's never been more proud of me, that he's sorry he didn't come to me sooner, that he had been afraid to push me away, that he hadn't known what my mother would do or say.

My dad has always been a goofy guy, extremely chaotic and overly emotional, so I find it ironic that I'm the one crying and he's being the strong one.

I pull away from him, wipe my face with my shirt, and tell him I love him and that I'm going to straighten shit out. He smiles at me and takes my garbage can, telling me he will dispose of it properly.

I turn back to my dark hole of a bedroom and start sorting through my endless piles of cds and dvds, organizing them on shelves.

I hear the toilet flush. And then I hear it again, and then one more time, and then I think to myself that it's time to go downstairs and make myself a peanut butter and banana sandwich.

...

"Ya sure this is what'cha want?"

I stare at the extremely tall, lanky tattoo artist and nod my head, "Yah. Let's do this."

"A'ight," he says with a smile that splits his face. The latex gloves snap into place on his slender fingers, "Jus' lay back and relax. Won't take long."

I lay back on the squeaky leather, shirtless, breathing steady. I watch him open a thumbnail canister of black ink and hear the needle turn on. My toes curl for a moment but then I remember that this is important, that this will remind me forever.

He was right. It didn't take long, less than an hour. I stare at it in the mirror before he rubs it down and tapes it up. The skin above my heart feels irritated and stings slightly, but it doesn't really hurt.

…..

I grab some Spanish takeout on my way over to Grimmjow's. It's almost ten o'clock at night, but I'm feeling hungry and I'm sure Grimmjow is too. I take the steps up to his apartment two at a time and don't bother to knock.

Renji's lying on the couch, the circles around his eyes almost pitch black. I look around for any other signs of life but don't see any, so I take a seat near Renji and stare at him for a while before he notices that I'm there.

"Yo," he croaks, sitting up and looking at my food bag, "Anything in there for me?"

"Sure," I say, pulling out one of my two burritos.

He annihilates it in less than five minutes, then looks at me with a serious face and says, "So…mind tellin' me what the fuck happened last night?"

I stiffen then shrug, "Nothing."

"Yeah?" he says, rubbing at his nose, "Well I don't think so. Grimmjow had a nuclear meltdown. I've never seen him that fuckin' pissed. What the fuck did you do?"

"Well I don't know, Renji," I say in a sarcastic tone, "maybe he didn't like that I was trying to fuck some random chick in his bed?"

"That can't be it," Renji says rubbing at his nose again before finishing his beer, "I've slayed a girl in his bed before, Ichi. Fuck, he's even fucked Hal before."

"He has?"

"Once or twice, I think. He's the reason I met her in the first place, but I'm done with that bitch now. She's nothing but a moocher, always leeching on me for drugs," he says before staring at the glass coffee table. I notice a section of it is caked in residue right before he says, "You got any on you? I'll spot you next time."

"No," I say, quick glancing at the television to avoid his zombie eyes, "not anymore."

"What'd'ya mean?"

"I got rid of it all."

"What?" Renji practically shrieks. He leans towards me, "Mind runnin' that by me again?"

"I gave my stash to my dad today," I say. I feel like I'm talking about the weather, "and he flushed it all."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You can't be serious right now."

"I am."

"Why the fuck would you do something so stupid?"

"It wasn't stupid. It's my fucking decision."

"So what? You goin' clean now?" he says with a snort, "Wha' the fuck, man? Wha' the fuck?"

"Dude, back off."

He starts laughing and rubs his eyes, "Oh, I get it. You tryin' 'ta win Rukia back or something?"

"Rukia's as fucked up as we are, how is me going clean going to win her back? Stop being a dick."

"Maybe you're trying to impress her? Show her you can change? Sky's the limit, Ichi," he says with another snort, "Maybe if ya clean yerself up good enough, her hoity-toity parents will adopt 'ya."

"Shut up, Renji."

Renji sneers, "Or maybe 'yer after her faggot brother, that Byakuya bitch."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Did I hit a nerve?" he says half-seriously before laughing again, "I always thought'cha'd play the other side of the fence. Didn't know ya'd be into girly guys though, bro."

"Seriously, Renji, shut your fucking mouth."

"It's not a big deal, Ichi. Ya don't gotta be embarrassed about it," Renji says then looks thoughtful, "Oh shit, is that the reason you and Rukia split? You guys were always breaking up. Did she catch'ya with her brother or something, or was it another guy?"

"She caught me with your mom," I say, because it's either get back at him or punch his fucking lights out, and when Renji's on a bender, I know better then to get violent. I could probably take him, but both of us would walk away with enough damage to file a restraining order.

"Oh fuck you," he says before lighting a cigarette. He blows the smoke in my face and then my gut feels like it's squirming with worms when he says, "I know you and Grimmjow fucked. Me and Starrk couldn't get outta' here fast enough."

This time I really do punch him and it takes him a moment to realize what I've done, but then his face contorts in rage and he's grabbing at me, but I'm not fucked up and I slip away from his hands before he can get a good grip. He's off the couch in a heartbeat and throws himself at my legs and I fall over the top of him with a loud THUNK. He starts trying to wrestle me and I'm trying to get my breath back and squirming every which way so that he can't get me in a headlock and I'm praying that someone walks through that door and tries to put a stop to this bullshit.

"No wonder Rukia fuckin' left you, you fuckin' faggot!" Renji growls and I swing at his face again but then one of his hands is pushing my face into the wood floor and I don't hit him nearly as hard as I had wanted to. He punches me in the gut and I groan but at least I get a solid knee in his groin and he falls over like a heavy sack of potatoes.

I move back and away quickly, getting to my feet, "And this faggot will kick your ass any day of the fucking week, Renji."

He gets up slowly and is staring at me with murder in his eyes right when the door to the apartment opens and Starrk walks in, trailed by Gin who looks amused at the spectacle. Then again, Gin is almost always smirking, so I'm not exactly sure, but I'm glad they're here.

"Fuck you. Fuck all this shit," he rages, pushing past Starrk who does nothing but sigh.

"You alright?" Gin asks as he takes a seat on the now vacant couch.

"Been better," I admit, rubbing the sore spot on my neck, "He's such a fucking ass hole when he's like that."

"He's always like that," Starrk says, plopping down on the couch next to his boyfriend, "He always starts shit when he's fucked up. You know that."

"But he didn't have to…" I stop, knowing it's pointless to argue anything at this point because Starrk is aware of the situation I am now in and I don't know exactly how to feel about it.

"Forget him. He'll come around. Let him sober up," Starrk says right before he smirks and nods towards the front door, "Grimm should be up any second. Got caught on the way in with an old acquaintance."

"Who?"

Starrk shrugs, "Some green-haired bitch. Maybe a fuck buddy?"

I say nothing as I approach the front door. I open it and Starrk decides to add, "Didn't know you were the jealous type, kid."

"Oh fuck you," I spit back.

_Fuck them. Fuck them all. I don't care if the whole fucking city knows we fucked last night. It's none of their goddamned business and everybody just needs to leave me the fuck alone._

"Never gonna happen. I'm a pitcher, not a catcher."

I leave before I feel any more embarrassed, but not before I hear Gin's creepy giggle.

….

I make my way down to the first floor and round the corner to see Grimmjow and who I had feared to be Nel, who is currently hanging on a much happier Renji.

She's laughing and Grimmjow flicks his cigarette, looking a bit agitated as Renji says loudly, "Come on, baby. Let's leave him to his fudge packer."

I tense visibly but stay back, finding no reason at all for me to approach further, so I simply watch them interact for another minute before I hear Grimmjow tell Renji to go fuck himself.

"Fuck me? Fuck _me_?" Renji says loudly, "No, fuck _you_! You've been after Ichigo's ass for years! I knew Ichigo would probably go off the deep end when he found out she'd fucked around and got knocked up, but going gay? Shit!"

Nel's eyes went huge and I just knew that I was going to end up killing Renji. Nel had the biggest fucking mouth on the planet and now everyone in Karakura would know about me and Grimmjow by morning.

"Shit, is that true?" she says, looking at Grimmjow like he's the all-knowing Buddha, "Fuck. We fucked a couple months ago. I never would've guessed. Shit."

"Doesn't matter," Renji says, "his reputation was ruined anyway. Rukia's family fucking hated him from the beginning, and now that they've forced her to go through with the abortion, they'll hate him even more. Not to mention fucking everybody knows about it."

"But he's not the father," Grimmjow says with an annoyed growl, flicking his cigarette towards the pavement, "Don't start shit, Renji."

"I didn't tell her ta' fuckin' get the abortion," Renji replies, "but her family's so _noble_ and _honorable_ and _high class_, and it's such a _scandal_ and all that other bullshit. I told her I'd help her. I even told her she could move in with me."

"Oh. My. God," Nel says right at the same time the cogs in my brain register what Renji has just said.

I go back up the stairs before I can hear any more, my brain pounding, my insides clenching.

I get back to Grimmjow's apartment just in time to race to the kitchen sink and puke my guts out. There isn't much, considering I'd been drinking water all day to rehydrate myself. Some chunks of bread and brownish banana.

I wipe my face, gurgle my mouth with water.

Starrk is asking me what's wrong but I don't know what to say and my chest hurts and I'm screaming on the inside with no way out.

I eye the glass coffee table. Starrk's set out at least ten grams worth of blow. He doesn't use, only deals. He must have been rationing out his next paycheck when I'd interrupted.

I dig in my back pocket for my wallet.

I pull it out.

Ten thousand yen bill between my fingers.

Then I feel the burn of my skin, remember my fresh and throbbing tattoo. I sigh.

"Ichigo?"

I turn back to face Starrk. Pocket the money, "I need to go."

"Where?"

"Any-fucking-where," I growl, stomping back out the door and slamming it behind me so hard that the door rattles in the frame. I'm practically running down the stairs, and because of this, I nearly slam right into Grimmjow who looks really concerned when he sees my face.

"Ichi? Where you going?" Grimmjow says like he's staring at a psychiatric patient, "Who you running from?"

He's holding onto my arm now, trying to keep me from taking off.

I can't say anything. I can't. If I do, I'll fall to pieces, shatter into billions of shards and he'll never be able to pick me all back up again.

"From everyone," I say, yanking myself away from him, "Just leave me alone."

And then I'm gone, whisking away, moving as quickly as I possibly can without running and then I feel his hand on my arm again and he's warm and I realize how cold I am.

"What the fuck happened?" he's asking, and I don't know whether to laugh in his face or start crying.

"Everything," I reply, too angry to cry, "Everything fucking happened, Grimmjow. My life's just one big shit storm, alright? So just back the fuck off."

He lets go of my arm, and then there's this flash in his eyes and I can't tell if it's recognition or intuition.

I think he knows that I know.

Yet he doesn't say anything.

Neither of us say anything.

It's killing me. I wonder how it's affecting him, him knowing. Is it better that he's not telling me, now that he knows? To be fair, he just found out moments ago, didn't he? Or had he known all this time?

I don't want to know the answer, so I don't voice the question.

I just turn away from him and walk away.

…

I'm halfway to Urahara's when I call Inoue and tell her to meet me. She must hear how desperate I sound over the phone because she doesn't even ask me what's wrong.

By the time I walk the extra blocks and plop myself down on a barstool and finish a beer and three cigarettes, she's coming in, looking gorgeous in a light red v-neck, shredded teeny tiny jean shorts and black-and-white striped socks to her knees with classic black-and-white Chucks. It doesn't matter what this girl wears she always looks like a knockout.

She kisses me on the cheek, taps the bar and orders a vodka cran before focusing all her attention on me again and saying, "Spill."

I order two double shots of Hennessy and follow it up with a shot of Jaeger before I say, "Renji's the dad."

She says nothing, her face barely registering it before, "What the _fuck_? Holy fucking _shit_, holy shit holy shit!"

Urahara slides us another set of Jaeger shots, him winking at her and saying this round's on the house. She winks back at him and I snort, but we clink our glasses together and down them before she asks me for a cigarette. I fish one out and light it for her before lighting another for myself and she says, "I don't usually smoke, but all this drama bullshit is seriously stressing me out, Ichi."

Feeling pleasantly buzzed by this point, I just enjoy my cancer stick before saying, "Renji. The kid I've known since diapers. The kid who used to wear dinosaur pajamas and wet the bed. The same red-haired prick who I built forts with. We even cut our arms in the seventh grade and exchanged blood. That's how close we were, Inoue. What the fuck happened?"

"I don't know," Inoue says, tapping her cigarette against a plastic black ashtray sitting on the bar top, "I don't fucking know. It's all a mess. I thought the same thing about Rukia. I loved that girl like a sister. A part of me still does."

I tap the bar again and ask for two double whiskey sours, "Then why? Why the fuck is it happening?"

I already know what she's going to say before she says it, "I don't know."

…

"What about Grimmjow?" Inoue says over an hour later as we're lying on our backs in the grass of my neighborhood park. It's past midnight, no kids to worry about. The place is absolutely abandoned and silent and I think to myself _what a waste_.

I have my hands resting on top of my stomach. I'd drank more than enough to put myself under the table, Inoue not far behind me, so we'd opted to walk to my neighborhood to try and sober up. It wasn't working so far, but there was no way I was going to let her go back to the bar, get in her car, and drive home. Not in this condition, so here we are, talking about stuff I was drinking to forget in the first place.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and notice that there are fifteen text messages, half of them from Grimmjow. I snort.

"What?"

"He's acting like a little girl," I say with a giggle. I open one of them and read it aloud, "_Where are you? You need to tell me what's up. Are you safe_?"

I'm laughing almost hysterically at this point while Inoue stays silent by my side with nothing more than an, "Awww."

"What? He's suddenly gonna be a clingy bitch now that I let him fuck me?" I erase all the messages and a part of me goes _oh shit_.

"What?" Inoue says, sitting up, "Ichi, you slept with him?"

"Last night," I say with a nod of my head.

"What?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god."

"God doesn't have anything to do with us," I say, rubbing my face with both of my hands, "God doesn't give a shit about how fucked up we both are."

We lay in silence for what feels like an eternity when I blurt, "You know how stupid I am? When I woke up today, I thought that everything would be different, like, poof, everything would be better, that things would make more sense. But they aren't. Everything's more fucked up then ever and I'm lying here shit-faced while Renji's out fucking Nel somewhere, probably thinking about how he fucked Rukia when he knew how much we were into each other. That's some fucked up shit."

"I know."

"We set a garbage can on fire in third grade," I say, feeling a deep pit inside my chest, "One time we fought so bad over a football game that I broke his nose in ninth grade. He didn't even care. He saw me a few days later, and his eyes were purple and blue like he'd had his lights punched out, and he'd grinned at me and told me that he'd somehow gotten into the girl's locker room and stolen your pink underwear."

Inoue starts laughing and I chuckle, but I stop and just look up at the few stars that are visible in the black sky and I think _how did it go so wrong?_

"He's still that person, Ichi," Inoue says, "He's a bastard sometimes, but he's loyal. Are you sure that you heard him right?"

"I know what I fucking heard," I say, rolling to face her, my hand on her chin, "How many other ways are there to fucking spell it?"

"Okay," she breathes, and then I'm thinking that this is a really bad idea but that I'm really drunk and I need somebody right now.

I lean into her and kiss her on the lips.

She's warm and soft and my hand ventures to her cleavage and then I hear her gasp and tell me to stop.

"Don't wanna," is my ridiculous reply and my lips are trying to trail along her ear when I feel her push me, hard, hard enough to knock me off of her because somehow in the span of just those few seconds I had managed to get on top of her. She's breathing hard, her face flushed, and I tell her that it's okay for her to hit me, that she can slap me if it means anything.

"You're drunk," she deadpans, standing up and looming over me. I'm lying flat on my back in the grass, staring up at my longtime friend, kicking myself on the inside for my stupidity. I suddenly feel gross and all wrong.

She has a girlfriend.

A girlfriend who loves her and would do anything for her.

Who would always be faithful and loyal and loving, and here I was, jacking their perfection.

I am pathetic. I am worse than scum, because I am now acting like Renji. Like Rukia.

I roll over and brace myself with my hands and start heaving, painting the grass with all the poison I had been pumping into my body that night.

When I'm finally done, I roll away from the mess and smell and Inoue's hugging me and telling me that everything is going to be okay, that none of it is my fault, and I want to scream at her to get away from me and leave me alone, leave me be.

But I don't. Because I need someone right now, someone who will hold me and tell me these things because I don't have anyone or anything to believe in anymore.

Then she's crying with me.

I don't think there have ever been so many stars in the sky.

…

Eventually we make it back to my house and pass out in my room. When I wake up she's cuddled into my side like a warm cat and I don't want to move and I think _this is the type of friendship that will last me for the rest of my life. _

When she wakes up I kiss her on the forehead and apologize for how stupid I had been the night before.

She smiles and tells me that it's okay, that I wasn't myself, that she's happy I'm better now and that she'll stay home with me all day and eat junk food and watch reruns of shitty Japanese soap operas all day if that's what I want to do.

I tell her I'm going to take a shower, pop a few Ibuprofen for my pounding head, and then head over to Rukia's.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she says quietly after I've showered and changed. She had showered after me and is now sitting on my bed in her tiny shorts and one of my t-shirts that's this pale yellow and has a mad chicken on it.

"Not really."

…..

I walk Inoue back to Urahara's to pick up her car and she drives me across town to Rukia's family's estate. I have a carton of a dozen eggs sitting in my lap and a package of toilet paper we had picked up from a convenience store.

She's smiling at me sheepishly and I smile a close-mouthed smile at her and tell her everything is going to be okay.

She squeezes my arm and tells me to call her later, and then I'm standing on the Kuchiki's pebbled driveway with eggs and toilet paper, feeling like I'm in middle school again and it's Halloween.

Think toilet-papering a giant majestic sakura tree and several manicured bushes. Think broad daylight.

I happily carry my package of eggs up the driveway and start smearing eggs all over Rukia's car, paying particular attention to the hood and side panels because it's August and the sun is blazing and I think to myself THERE GOES THAT PRETTY NEW PAINT JOB.

I have one egg left when I hear someone's footsteps and I crane my neck to stare at Byakuya.

He's looking at me with this bland expression. I take in his appearance. Even when the snob is doing nothing, laying around at home, he looks like he's ready to shoot the cover of a magazine. Dark designer jeans and a loose-fitted white Calvin Klein button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hands are in his front pockets now, his back straight and his head held high as usual. I was beginning to realize this stance was ingrained in the Kuchiki DNA. I think it is quite literally impossible for them not to stand like they have a rod shoved down their spine. His long black hair is pulled back in a halfsy and I'm amazed that he's still standing here staring at me instead of yelling at me. Or at least asking me what I'm doing.

"Hey," I say to break the awkward silence.

I crack the last egg on her hood and stand back to admire my handiwork. Byakuya says, "Hold on."

So I stand and wait, and I'm thinking his father will be out here any minute now to condemn me, or possibly his mother, who, to me, is actually the scarier of the two. Maybe he'd even bring Rukia.

You will never understand the shock and admiration I felt when Byakuya returned holding a carton of organic eggs. He picks one up, holds it perfectly, if there even is such a thing, and throws it with deadly accuracy at Rukia's fender.

"Help yourself," he says in a low tenor.

When the carton is empty and you can no longer tell that Rukia's car is in fact Rukia's car due to the amount of shit dripping off of it, I turn towards Byakuya.

"You are the raddest person I have ever met."

The corner of his mouth turns up and I can't help but smile back at him.

"But why?" I can't help but ask, "Don't you hate me?"

"My sister acted dishonorably. I have not spoken to her since she confessed to me who the real father was. In my eyes, you have done nothing wrong."

"Rukia's such a talented liar I can't believe Renji held in all this bullshit."

"What did she tell you?"

"That Grimmjow was the father. And now…"

One of his noble eyebrows shifts, "Impossible. Grimmjow's never touched her. He would not even accept her when you two were together."

"I know that now."

"And as for Renji, what does he have to do with any of this?" he asks seriously, and for the thousandth time today I feel as if the world is playing some cataclysmic joke on me.

"I heard Renji…I heard him. I know what I heard," I mutter. I scratch at my arms because suddenly I'm unsure of everything, "Renji is, or was, the father. Right?"

Byakuya's face is impassive. I want to hit him.

"No," Byakuya answers and I feel as if a weight has been lifted off of my chest, "although before Rukia told me who the father was I had suspected him. As you know, they have always been close, too close for my parent's tastes, but the love between them is as siblings. When I refused to go with her to the clinic, she called on Inoue to help her. When Inoue suddenly refused, she called on Renji."

"And Renji went," I say, not knowing exactly how to feel about it. A part of me admires Renji's loyalty, and that reminds me of Inoue's words the night before, how Renji can be a bastard, a down-right prick, but he cares for his friends and has always had a fierce sense of loyalty.

Renji was the reason I had been introduced to Rukia in the first place.

I shouldn't have ever assumed anything. I should have come right out and asked him, confronted him then, but I had been too weak, too caught up in the idea of betrayal.

I have obvious trust issues.

I didn't trust Rukia, and with good reason. I hadn't trusted Grimmjow, and who knew where we stood now? And I hadn't trusted Renji, even though he's had my back for nearly my entire life.

I never even trusted myself. How stupid.

"Then…" I begin, the sun feeling too hot against my skin, "who was the father?"

"You want me to be the one who tells you that?"

"Rukia lied to me before. She'll do it again."

"Quite possibly," he says, running his fingers through his hair, a habit of his I've noticed with all my time hanging around Rukia's place, "but at this point, does it really matter? It's not as if the child will ever be born now."

"I know. It's just…you know. The not knowing."

"It won't change anything."

"I know that."

He gives me a level look with those cool grey eyes.

I shift my feet.

I hear him breathe.

And he says…

….


	4. Redemption

**Hope Dangles on a String**

Chapter 4.

…..

_'Hope dangles on a string, like slow-spinning redemption.' -Dashboard Confessional 'Vindicated'_

…..

I hadn't been expecting that answer.

Of all the answers to expect.

I had never even considered it.

It was just so…random.

So I repeat myself because I feel as if my brain will never accept what Byakuya has said.

"Keigo?"

Byakuya nods, "He is a close friend of yours, is he not?"

Yeah. Well. Kind of. Keigo's more of a burden then anything else. Always joking. Always immature. I'd met him in high school and he had managed to assimilate into our group pretty easily. Inoue had put up with him, Tatsuki always fighting with him, but it had always been funny. Chad had never seemed to care one way or another, but I knew the two were close. I wonder what Chad would do when he found out that his longtime friend and roommate had slept with one of his best friend's girls and knocked her up.

I would never expect something like that from Keigo. Never. Not in a million years. He slept around, sure, but…I've never even seen Rukia look at him twice. They never even really talked, so…

I lean against Byakuya's grey Mercedes as I lose myself in giggles, trying to imagine Keigo pounding into Rukia. I can't, so I laugh harder. Byakuya is staring at me with that even, controlled expression I hate so much.

When I can finally breathe normally again, I stand up straight and wipe my face before telling him thanks and walking away.

"That was not the reaction I had been expecting," I hear Byakuya mumble.

"I don't know why I continue to be surprised," I throw back over my shoulder, unable to help my grinning face, "Shit. What am I supposed to do with that? Nothing, right?"

"Are you going to confront him?"

"What's the point?" I say, spinning back towards him, feeling ridiculously giddy. I don't know why I feel this way, but it's better than thinking that Grimmjow or Renji would ever betray me in such a way. Yeah it hurts to know that someone I've known for almost six years would go behind my back, but it's Keigo. _Keigo_. I remember the last time I saw him, when he asked me if I had any blow on me, how dark the rings around his eyes had been, how he had been as white as a sheet. I see him in his Don Kanonji boxers snorting a line and talking to me as if it's any other day, as if he's the raddest fucking friend ever and will always have my back.

And I remember what he said when I was leaving with Chad:

_"See ya later, Keigo," I said when Chad opened the door to the apartment and stepped out, me on his heels._

_"You're awesome, Ichi," he says, rubbing his nose really fast, "You're the fucking man. You know that, right?"_

_I'd snorted, "Yeah, Keigo. The fucking man."_

_"You're the best," he said with a giant smile, "I mean it, bro. Whatever you need, whatever you fucking need, man, I got you next time."_

I feel my pockets for my cigarettes and realize I left my nearly empty pack on my dresser at home. Fuck it.

"Where are you going?" Byakuya asked, making me jump slightly. I'd almost forgotten he was there, and I'm still standing in the Kuchiki's yard, and I feel totally exposed and I wonder if Rukia's awake and then I think that it would be totally fucking rad if she decided to look out her bedroom window right now and saw me standing here with this stupid smile on my face.

"Grimmjow's," I say almost instantly, "I got some shit to sort out."

"I'm heading into town for a lunch appointment. I can drop you off at the corner of 6th and Pantera."

I can't help myself as I say, "You're becoming more human by the minute."

I hadn't expected him to say, "Aren't we all?"

…..

I stand outside Grimmjow's apartment door for a good twenty minutes.

I'm not scared. I'm not. That's not the point. The point is that I have no idea what exactly it is I AM feeling. Whatever it is, it's not fear.

It's like…let me try to describe it.

When it's raining really hard, and you're cussing at the cold, but you have an umbrella, and even though it's a rickety-ass, piece of shit umbrella, you're still better off with it then without it.

Or like when you have graham crackers and chocolate, but you're desperate for a marsh mellow so that you can create the perfect smore; something to hold it together, something to make it right.

Like a scratchy knit sweater, but you know someone's fingers are hurting and they made it just for you, and even though you pretend to hate the color or the feel, you know you secretly treasure it.

It feels strange, and weird, and girly, and then I remember his text messages from the night before, how pissed off he's going to be when I walk in.

I walk in anyway.

The first thing I realize is how quiet it is. Grimmjow almost always has his stereo playing; I think this is the second time in three or four years that I've ever walked in on no music playing. The living room is abandoned, nobody in sight. No Starrk. No Gin. No Renji. No random druggies.

The next thing I notice is the smell. I smell bleach and other antiseptics. I toe my shoes off and step further inside and notice how shiny the wood floorboards beneath my feet look. I wander the living room. Cds are off of the floor, put in their rightful place on shelves in this massive wood entertainment system Grimmjow bought for cheap at a flea market. The glass coffee table is clean, not even an ashtray.

No trash. No cups. No greasy pizza boxes or Chinese take-out containers of any kind to be seen or smelled anywhere.

No blow. No razor blades. No weed. The smell still lingers in the air if I sniff really hard, but the cleaners have done a good job. I check on top of the television and behind an empty picture frame, Grimmjow's usual places to stash. Nothing.

I wander towards the kitchenette, where the smell of bleach is strongest. I can see my own reflection in the kitchen sink. This worries me. I have never, ever seen my reflection in the kitchen sink. I've never even seen the kitchen sink empty before.

The countertops are shiny and devoid of anything. Not even a set of car keys or a napkin. The coffee maker and a retro toaster are the only testaments that someone actually uses the space.

I turn down the hallway that leads to the single bedroom, thinking that maybe Grimmjow isn't even here, but that's just crazy because he has never left his apartment unlocked unless someone is inside it. Sometimes he's not home, but whoever it is always locks up afterward.

His bedroom door is cracked open.

I push it open slowly.

Grimmjow's sitting on the floor, his back to me so that he's facing the light streaming in through the glass doors of his small patio and I can hear him rustling something that sounds like paper. I can see a couple shoeboxes stacked by his side, beat-up containers for whatever he's looking at.

"Grimmjow?" I say it like a question because honestly I have never seen this type of behavior from him. He's never been a complete slob, but he's never had the apartment this magnificent either. Even his room is neat except for the bed, the sheets all twisted. The door to his closet is slid open and I can see the few shelves are organized. The single bureau in the corner is bare, the side table holding nothing but a lamp with a blue lampshade and his cell phone. I never realized how few possessions Grimmjow actually has until this moment. The apartment looks like he could walk out tomorrow with nothing more than a backpack or a duffle bag and never look back.

He stops what he's doing and lifts his head, but he's still not looking at me. I think he's looking out the glass doors, which are not streaked and gross looking like usual. They're crystal clear and beautiful and I can almost see his expression from the reflection.

"So what? You talkin' 'ta me now?" he says right before going back to whatever it is he's organizing.

I give him a minute before I say, "I deserved that."

"You're an ass hole."

"I know."

He finally turns his body enough to look over at me and the blue of his eyes nearly blinds me. I see the dark half moons under his eyes, the dishevelment of his hair. His white wife beater is streaked and his grey sweatpants are torn in several places.

And he says, "What do you want?"

And I don't have an answer. I stand there like an idiot with my mouth half-open, my hands loose by my sides because I can't believe Grimmjow was this sick over me.

"Everything's so clean," I say stupidly.

"Che. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't fuckin' sleep and I didn't have work today," he growls, flipping through what I now see are photos.

I take a few steps closer to him, "You didn't sleep?"

"Are you fucking retarded?" Grimmjow shoots back at me, nearly making me jump out of my skin, "You _leave_, half out of your fuckin' mind, don't fuckin' stop and talk 'ta me when I practically beg, and don't answer any of my fuckin' calls or texts. Don't fuckin' play with me, Ichigo."

He ruffles through some more pictures then finally throws the pile down and rubs his hands over his face and I say, "I heard you talking to Renji and Nel. I thought Renji was the father."

Grimmjow looks up and over at me again for at least a minute before shaking his head slowly and sounding disgusted, "You're a fuckin' idiot."

"I know."

"I fuckin' hate what you did."

"I can see it."

"You can't do that," he says, looking at me with serious eyes, "You can't fuckin' do that again."

"I won't."

"We'll see."

"I mean it." I want to touch him and kiss him and make him forget, but I'm afraid to go near him yet.

He finally stands up and looks at me hard again before saying, "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Okay," I say lamely. He walks past me, not touching me, and I feel my throat tighten and I have this sick twisty feeling in my gut and I feel like screaming in frustration.

He closes the bathroom door behind him and I hear the shower turn on. I run my hands through my overgrown hair and decide the only way to clear my head is to hear something precious.

Music.

I turn on Grimmjow's stereo and rotate to a random cd.

The beat starts up and I immediately recognize it and I stand stupidly in front of the bureau, staring at the stereo because I had no idea that Grimmjow even liked Placebo. The tone is haunting and beautiful and perfect:

_'It doesn't hurt me_

_You wanna feel how it feels?_

_You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?_

_You wanna hear about the deal I'm makin'?_

_You...could be running up that hill…_

_You and me…could be running up that hill…_

_And if I only could make a deal with God, and get him to swap our places_

_Be runnin' up that road, be runnin' up that hill, be runnin' up that buildin'…_

_If I only could…_

_You don't wanna hurt me,_

_But see how deep the bullet lies…_

_Unaware that I'm tearin' you asunder…_

_There's a thunder in our hearts, baby…_

_So much hate for the ones we love_

_Tell me we both matter…don't…we…?'_

I've heard enough.

And then suddenly I'm moving and I'm pushing the bathroom door open and I'm sliding the glass of the shower over and Grimmjow turns towards me, his hands frozen on his chest where he had been rubbing in this spicy smelling body wash and I say nothing, just step inside with him and water immediately begins to soak through my clothing and I can still hear the song playing from his bedroom.

He doesn't say anything, only watches me slide my wet t-shirt over my head so that I can expose my little secret and he's staring at my tender new tattoo and he says, "Ichi."

And the way he says it makes me think that we're going to be okay, and this makes butterflies swirl in my stomach and heat gather in my nether regions because I'm standing in the steaming shower with a soapy and naked Grimmjow and I lean into him and I'm not tall enough so I have to grab his head and pull him down to me and the kiss makes my toes curl.

Then he's grabbing and tugging on my hair as he holds my head in place and annihilates my tongue, just absolutely overpowers me and I hear myself moan but I don't care because he's all I want.

"I wanted to show you yesterday," I admit after we break for air, "but Renji fucked with my head and…I just…fuck, Grimm, I think I've wanted you forever. Fuck Rukia and her bullshit."

I take a deep breath because my next sentence is crazy and insane but I gotta tell him because it's true and I need something real right now, "You're important to me."

"Shit," he growls, pressing himself against me and I see how hard he is and I'm shivering because he says, "let me fuck you."

"Christ."

"Yeah."

I smile before I tug him down for another kiss and suddenly I'm feeling giddy and like a love struck teenager and we're tripping over each other and then we're out of the bathroom and he's tugging on my jeans and his weight hits me as I land on the bed and then he's everywhere and I'm nowhere at all because he's smothering me in heat and affection and I know I don't deserve someone as amazing as him.

He's got his hand wrapped around both our cocks as he grinds against me and I'm arching my back and trying not to sound like a dime-budget porn movie when he stiffens and stops and has this frustrated look on his face before I finally ask him what's wrong.

"I can't fuck with Amberlin playing in the background," he growls, getting off of me in the next instant and hitting the power button on his stereo to silence it, "_Embrace the Dead_ isn't exactly sexy."

I laugh, I laugh to the point of tears as he laughs with me and then he's on me again and I stop laughing because he's making me squeal and make all these other unmanly noises because he's begun attacking my nipples with his teeth, biting then laving, biting then laving, and it's driving me insane. I tug on his wet blue locks and shudder when his tongue finds my weeping cock. His fingers aren't far behind, and this time I barely register them because he's doing something amazing with his teeth on the underside of my cock and I can't stop trembling and I can't take it anymore so I grip his hair really tight and pull him off of my cock and say, "G-Grimm, fuck me already."

He hisses, and I hope it's because his cock just got too hard for comfort. He grabs the inside of my thighs and spreads me and I dig my heels into the mattress as he enters me and I cry out because he's so warm and I'm almost butter as his kisses return to me and he bites my neck when he plunges into me again.

Over and over and over and I'm crying for him not to stop because he's spearing that tightness deep inside of me that makes me see white. Our bodies slide against each other, slick with sweat and I hear him pant my name and moan and I think that's what takes me over the edge.

I tug my cock once.

The blinding white light.

I hear Grimmjow cuss and rotate his hips, fighting my constricting muscles because he doesn't want it to be over just yet. My hands trail his abs, one of my fingers brushing over a nipple and he stiffens and I smirk because I had no idea he was sensitive there.

Not even a minute later he comes hard inside me and we're sweaty and disgusting and I know we aren't finished yet.

He pulls out of me. I feel his cum dripping out of my ass and sliding on my thighs and he rolls off of me, his eyes dark as they stare up at the ceiling and he's breathing as hard as I am and I don't warn him as I move and begin to lick his juices off of his cock. He stiffens and throws his head back and starts speaking in hushed, hurried German and I realize my cock is getting hard again listening to him, tasting him.

I try to deep throat him, almost gag, and pull off, but he's hard again and that's good enough for me. I throw my leg over him and straddle his waist, my knees digging into the mattress on either side of his torso as I reach a hand behind me to grasp his straining cock and I lift my sore ass and slam down on him.

I watch his eyes roll into the back of his head as I cry out at the sudden intrusion but I adjust quickly, rotating my hips to accommodate his girth once again.

"Fuck, Ichigo," Grimmjow pants, his fingers now digging into my hipbones with enough force to bruise. I arch my back, my spine tingling as I slowly begin to ride him, completely inexperienced, having no idea what I'm doing, just knowing that I want to do it.

It's erotic, and insane, and it's the first time I've ever truly made love with someone. This isn't just fucking, this is something private and deep and my body tenses up as Grimmjow begins to lift himself to meet me and he brushes my prostate and I scream.

"More, shit, more," I continue to cuss every bad word I can think of, losing myself in sensation and then I feel one of Grimmjow's hands stroking me and I explode, cum slapping warm on Grimmjow's chest. He lifts my thighs and the change in angle is enough for him because he thrusts deep two times before groaning out another orgasm.

I fall on top of him, completely boneless, breathing hard into his shoulder with no will to move. His fingers run along my sides once before his arms are spread eagle, lying on the bed as if he has been crucified by good sex.

Minutes pass and I'm starting to get cold when Grimmjow finally announces that we need another shower.

….

After we've showered and I've changed into a pair of his green pajama pants, we proceed to the kitchen where Grimmjow heats up some instant ramen. We eat on the couch while watching a rerun of some ninja anime we haven't watched since middle school.

"This Naruto kid is a pussy," Grimmjow announces after slurping up some noodles, "He cries too damn much."

"At least he has a sense of humor," I defend, always feeling as if I need to defend my favorite character, "At least he's not fucking emo like Sasuke. Oh wait, I meant to say Sasu-GAY."

"Whatever. Sasuke's where it's at. He's got the brains and the bitches," Grimmjow says with a smirk, "I bet'cha every girl in this anime'd let him fuck 'em. Some'a the guys too. He looks like he's willing to play both ways."

I laugh because this is stupid and pointless but I find it ridiculously entertaining and I think to myself that this is how it should be when we're together. He hasn't changed for me and I haven't changed for him. He'll still talk trash and I'll still punch him; we'll fight over shit things that won't matter in the morning and won't apologize because we know we're already forgiven.

We pass out on the couch and when I wake up I feel fingers lazily tracing the gothic-style 6 on my chest that is a match to the version of the 6 on his lower back and I wait for him to ask me why but he doesn't.

The key difference in our tattoos is that my 6 has a ribbon twisted on it, two words etched in gothic lettering.

"_Mala Suerte_," Grimmjow says out loud, "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It's Spanish. It means _bad luck_."

His eyebrows are drawn together and I enjoy the confusion on his face before continuing, "Six is an unholy number. It's actually the numerical symbol for the devil."

Grimmjow smiles wide, showing me his elongated canines, "I know that. Ya know six has always been my favorite number."

"It's considered bad luck. You've been bad luck to a lot of people, but not to me. I'm bad luck too. I wanted something that meant something personal to me."

"Hn," Grimmjow says, leaning into me for a lingering kiss, "You're so fucking sappy."

"Bite me."

"Stay with me."

I do.

…..

It's a week later when I run into her.

I'm coming out of the convenience store with a bottle of water and a bag of Doritos and I see her face and she sees mine and I freeze.

She stands there awkwardly for a moment, dips her head to the side, hands going into her pockets, "Hey."

"You," I say, not really sure why I sound so robotic. I busy my fingers by tugging on the cap of my water, my eyes trailing the clunky black boots she's decided to put her dainty little feet in, "What's up?"

She gives me a level look, the look she's always been good at giving me, the look that makes me feel like an idiot, "Really?"

I shrug, "What else do you want?"

"I don't know," she answers, her hands now free of her pockets, one of her hands rubbing idly at her other arm. Her eyes are glassy and I snort.

"You into heroin now?"

"Shut the fuck up," she replies, looking at me angrily. She's still itching at her arm and I notice how pasty her skin looks, but there are small patches of red on her arms and on one of her cheeks.

Pathetic. Simply pathetic.

"So," I can't help myself. I just can't tell myself not to, "Keigo."

Her head whips up as if I've electrocuted her, her small mouth hanging open, "What?"

"Keigo," I repeat slowly for her benefit, "How's that working out for you?"

"You're an ass hole."

"And you're a bitch," I reply, taking a pull from my water, "I just have one question for you, and then I'll never bug ya again."

"What?" she snaps, her eyes falling on my package of chips.

"Why'd you lie? Why tell me Grimmjow was the father? You could've picked anybody."

She doesn't look at me for almost a complete minute. Another convenience store customer walks out with a few shopping bags whistling, ignoring us young people and our youthful problems.

"I knew," she begins, rubbing her arm instead of itching it this time, "that it would hurt you the most."

Oh.

"Huh," I say, nodding once, "You were right."

"Renji told me," she says with a snort, "about you thinking he was the dad."

"I did. But we're good now."

"Yeah, good now," Rukia mocks, snorting again, "You're just fucking great with everybody, aren't you? Good old Kurosaki, ne?"

"You know," I say conversationally, popping a chip into my mouth. I chew and swallow before saying, "I'm still trying to figure out what I ever saw in you."

"Fuck you."

"Never again," I snap back while walking away from her.

Oh, I almost forgot something.

"Oh yeah," I turn back towards her. She's poised at the half-opened convenience store door, looking aged and confused and alone, "Grimmjow fucks me now."

Her eyes bulge. I grin.

She eventually starts laughing and calls me a faggot, a fucking faggot and a loser and she's glad to be rid of me and that she knows I'm the one who egged her fucking car.

"Byakuya helped too," I quip, not understanding why I'm feeling so good and calm and perfect right now.

She shuts up, her face falling and looking broken and then she yells something at me but I'm already walking away and don't care.

I saunter away, king of the world.

...

A couple days after my confrontation with Rukia, I'm sitting in Grimmjow's living room on the couch, laughing uncontrollably at the dubbed version of Jack Ass that Grimmjow insisted we all watch again.

We've all seen it at least a dozen times, but it never gets old.

Oh well. Boys will be boys.

I've had a few beers by this point and Grimmjow's sitting cross-legged on the floor between my legs and he throws his head back into my lap and asks me something about what just happened on the screen but I'm not listening because I'm getting lost in those goddamned perfect blue eyes again. He must not be expecting an answer because he turns his attention back to the screen and Starrk yells from the kitchen what do we want on our pizza and we yell back that it doesn't fucking matter we'll eat anything.

Gin's smiling like an idiot as he finishes another beer and Chad and Renji are arguing over which brand of beer tastes better but they eventually give up because it's a pointless battle.

Later, after we've gorged ourselves on pizza and the television is nothing but static and the speakers are blaring everything from Avenged Sevenfold to Saliva and Grimmjow's thrown his stack of cards at Renji, claiming that he's a dirty cheater, we all snap our heads up at the sound of the front door opening.

And who should walk in but our buddy Keigo.

He looks even sicker then the last time I saw him, which really wasn't that long ago.

But to me, it feels like a lifetime ago. I've been clean for almost two weeks, Grimmjow right behind me.

But we weren't naive: we knew the world wasn't going to stop for us.

Renji had done a few lines before the night had started. Starrk still dealt. Gin still rolled. The world kept spinning.

And now Keigo was standing in the living room, pale as the white t-shirt he's wearing and he smells pretty awful and I wonder if he's bathed at all in the past couple days. The black rings around his eyes make him look like a raccoon.

He's itching at his arms, his eyes glued to Starrk, "Hey man, I called you, like, fifteen times. What's up with that, man? Like what the fuck?"

"Keigo, I don't have that shit," Starrk says in a deep voice and for a second I remember that Starrk is one tough motherfucker, "Don't fucking ask me again."

"Fuck you, dude," Keigo says, pointing his finger at Starrk, "I got the money and everything. You're just being a prick."

"Watch yerself," Gin said, his pale blue eyes slitting open, "If 'ma man says he don't got it, he don't got it. So why don't you walk yer skinny lil' piece 'a shit ass outta here before I rearrange 'yer face?"

"You don't scare me, faggot," Keigo spits, looking pretty deranged at this point. His jaw is sliding and he looks like he's going to crawl right out of his skin and it's so pathetic I don't know whether to cry or laugh.

Starrk gets up but he hasn't taken two steps before Grimmjow's holding him back with a hand on his chest and I'm wondering what's going on.

"Get the fuck out," he snarls in Keigo's direction. Keigo stiffens then shakes slightly, but he's desperate and he needs something now and he's not thinking straight and out of his goddamned mind.

"You gotta give me something, man. Anything," Keigo finally begs.

Starrk pulls a tiny baggie out of his jeans pocket, "Forty, asshole."

"You do twenty for Ichi!" Keigo shrieks.

"You ain't Ichi," Renji says, wiping his hand across his nose, "And you're tweakin' mad bad, bro. Get the fuck up outta here before ya embarrass yourself."

Keigo looks at me.

I already know, and it makes me sick.

"Come on, Ichi. Help me out here," he says, scratching at the side of his neck, "Please? Come on, bro, for me?"

"For you?" I repeat, still sitting on the couch, my hands on my knees, "You want me to do something for you, Keigo? Wasn't fucking Rukia and knocking her up enough?"

The room goes quiet. The music is still blowing out the apartment but everyone's now staring at either Keigo or me, waiting for a reaction.

I hadn't told anybody that I'd heard the truth from Byakuya. Renji had been told from Rukia, but I was pretty sure that Grimmjow and Chad were still in the dark.

And when it came to Starrk and Gin, I never knew what they knew. They'd probably already been informed. It made sense that they had known, considering how hostile they were being towards him right now.

This was the first time I'd run into him since finding out.

And I wasn't bashing his face in, or threatening him, or even really caring.

He's still standing there looking like a lost zombie, like he has nothing. Nothing at all.

"You son of a bitch!" Grimmjow says, moving towards him, but Chad is soon blocking him.

Keigo's cowering behind Chad's broad shoulders, Chad's face reserved.

"Get out of my way," Grimmjow growls, and I think that this is a fight that I would like to see, because honestly I can't see Grimmjow fighting Chad.

Chad is a beast at 6'7'', which forces Grimmjow to look up at him another four inches. Keigo's nearly non-existent as he whines something from behind Chad.

Chad gives Grimmjow a level look, and then...

Chad hits Keigo so hard he falls back, smacking against the wall. Keigo's screaming as he holds his hands over his now bloody and very broken nose.

"I didn't know," Chad says simply, looking at me for a second before turning his attention back to Grimmjow, "and I wanted the first hit. Sorry."

Grimmjow's brows are drawn together, and I wonder what he's thinking because he looks over at me like he's asking for some kind of permission to carry out vengeance.

I stand up from the couch and make my way over towards them, standing with them as we stare at a sniveling, crying, broken Keigo.

I finally sigh, "He's just...too fucking pathetic."

I watch them drag him out of the apartment and out of my life.

...

"Hey."

"What?" I reply. I'm sprawled out on Grimmjow's bed naked, staring up at the ceiling. He has just walked into the bedroom, water dripping off of him as he towels his hair.

He's also naked.

This makes me hard again.

We've been fucking for months. It's been almost a year.

And I still want him.

I'll never get sick of him.

"Come to Germany with me," he says, tossing the towel to the floor before crawling into bed and settling his arm across my stomach.

It's not sexual at all.

Just nice.

"Germany?" I repeat because I don't know what else to say.

I know he has to go, but I don't want him to. His elderly uncle, the only sibling of Grimmjow's late father, had just passed away, leaving his estate unattended. With his own wife and child dead, Grimmjow was the only living blood left.

There was a lot of paperwork to be worked out, considering the old man had left millions behind due to selling his very profitable shipping business only a few short months before passing away of natural causes. The old man had had his fingers in stocks and trades all over the world. Someone would have to manage it.

Grimmjow had explained all of this to me.

Grimmjow's flight was in three days. He would be gone a few months. Maybe even a year.

It was his father's homeland. It was Grimmjow's childhood, Grimmjow's forgotten life.

Grimmjow wanted, needed, to go.

"What about school?" I say.

"Skip a semester with me," he says, "One semester. That's all I'm asking."

"Is it?"

He looks at me a little guiltily, our heads turned towards each other, our eyes focused, "What if...what if I don't come back?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. Of course. Grimmjow had deep roots there: what if he wanted to start life over again? Become something more then what he had managed to become here with me?

"I wonder what it will feel like."

"Huh?" he says right as _Autumn to Ash's_ 'Pioneers' switches over on the stereo.

_'And this will never be, _

_And this will never be reversed...'_

"I wonder what it will feel like to be an alien," I elaborate, "I don't even know English, and German sounds even harder."

He smirks.

We kiss.

And I think to myself that I don't know what I'm doing.

That I'm being reckless. Quite stupid. Possibly setting myself up for destruction.

And then I remember that I am just now beginning to live.

**The end.**


End file.
